


Beware The King's Harem

by whiskygalore



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jensen, Hurt Jensen, M/M, Mention of Castration, Minor Violence, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge, Top Jared Padalecki, Virgin Jensen, Younger Jensen, definitely no castration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 11:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskygalore/pseuds/whiskygalore
Summary: When one of King Jared's more eccentric judgements backfires and he suddenly finds himself in possession of eighteen year old farm-boy Jensen Ackles, he decides that Jensen, who is quite the prettiest thing he has ever seen, would be best suited for a position as his attendant. He doesn't however count on Jensen being quite so innocent, or so damned stubborn. Or everyone in his court interfering. Jensen, meanwhile, is quite sure the king is an insufferable ass, until he realizes he’s not.





	Beware The King's Harem

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Spn J2 Bigbang 2018. Thank you so much to everyone who helped me through the challenge, especially Somer and Salt; without their cheerleading and support at the start of year, I would just have quit this writing lark altogether. Thanks also to Firesign10 for her patient and prompt beta-ing and advice, and of course Wendy without who this amazing challenge just wouldn't be a success year after year.
> 
> Most importantly, thank you so much to sillie82, first for choosing my ridiculous story and then for being such a pleasure to work with. Her art is beautiful...absolutely stunning. I couldn't have imagined or wished for anything better. Please go and check out her masterpost and leave her some love!
> 
> And last of all, if you have read this far, thank YOU, for giving me and this story a little of your time!

 

 

 

 

As a bitter autumnal wind whipped around Jensen’s face, burning his lips and freezing every breath he exhaled, he cursed silently at the fact King Jared's castle sat perched atop the highest vantage point in the land. True, it made for a perfect defensive position, but it made the journey towards it a less than enjoyable experience. Which he supposed, if you were guarding against an invading horde was rather the objective. Not the Jensen was a horde. Or invading.

To be honest, Jensen didn’t truly understand why they were making the journey in the first place. Requesting an audience with the king was not an action to be taken lightly, and as far as Jensen was concerned there were plenty of people in more urgent need than his parents. Unfortunately, his parents hadn’t asked for, or listened to, his opinion on the matter. When news arrived that their request to see the king had finally been granted, they’d packed their bags and been on their way within hours, leaving Jensen’s uncle in charge of their farm, but dragging Jensen, unwillingly, along with them.

“For heaven’s sake, Jensen, pick up your feet; if we aren’t at the castle soon we’ll be late. You know we’ll have to wait weeks until we get the opportunity to speak to King Jared again if they don’t allow us entry.”

Jensen huffed under his breath at his father’s scolding, and reluctantly quickened his step to catch up with his parents. If the pace they were setting was any indication, they must indeed be keen to see the king. The three of them had ridden in their cart all the way from their farm in the north of the country to the king's castle, stopping over at coaching inns along the way, but this last part of the journey had to be made on foot. The hundreds, _thousands_ , of steps up to the castle gate were impassable any other way.

Well, Jensen wasn’t an idiot; he knew that there had to be another, easier, route up to the castle gate. But for a lowly peasant to set eyes on the king, this trial was required. Under normal circumstances the trek wouldn’t have been too much of an ordeal, but Jensen was exhausted after the journey so far, and chilled almost down to the bone.

He’d started that day already weary after spending the previous night on the floor of the local inn. His mother and father had taken the last free room, and it was either bed down on his parents' floor or in the stables with their two horses. And although the stables were decidedly colder, at least the horses didn’t berate him at every opportunity.

Perhaps he would have slept better had it not been for the stable boy, a slip of a lad, no more than fourteen years old, who’d attempted to befriend him, telling him tales long into the night about the king and his court. None of those—most likely tall—tales served to calm Jensen’s nerves about today’s endeavor.

King Jared had ruled over the kingdom of Texinor for just over a year now. There had been much celebrating across the land when the news had spread that he’d finally overthrown the universally detested King Michael, a man whose favorite pastimes involved torching the homes of people who couldn’t afford to pay his ever-increasing taxes, as well as imprisoning, torturing or just plain murdering anyone who dared speak out against him. To put it mildly, King Michael was not a pleasant fellow. King Jared did not have much to do to earn a kinder reputation, and as far as Jensen had heard, he had succeeding in doing just that.

The stable boy had heard slightly more, mainly gossip from travelers and their servants. Some of the stories intrigued Jensen, and others scared him witless. King Jared was apparently ‘eccentric’ and more than a little hedonistic. He apparently had a harem of women at his beck and call, and was known for throwing wild parties with copious amounts of wine and little clothing or propriety. Wild dogs, said the stable boy, roamed the castle grounds and guarded the king with feral abandon. Reason dictated that most of this was bound to be ridiculous rumor, but Jensen couldn’t help worrying.

“Boy, for God’s sake, stop dilly-dallying.” Jensen stumbled over a step, jostled out of his wandering thoughts by his father’s rebuke. Despite the growing tightness in his chest, he ran quickly to close the distance that had once more grown between him and his parents. “We should have left him at home,” Jensen’s father muttered to his mother. “The lad is useless, weak as a sapling. I don’t know what we did wrong for the good Lord to lumber us with such a pathetic creature for a child.”

Jensen ignored the insults. He was used to them by now. Besides, he didn’t have any spare energy to argue even if he wanted to.

Jensen’s father continued his diatribe, his mother, as usual, nodding along like a faithful lapdog. “If he’s not struggling to breathe when the weather so much as hints at turning cold, his skin is burning under the weakest ray of sunlight. He should have been born a girl with his weak constitution; at least we might have been able to marry him off.”

The complaints were nothing Jensen hadn’t heard before, and since he’d turned eighteen a few weeks past, his father’s jabs had only grown more vociferous. Jensen could do little to defend himself when everything said was true.

His father’s bitter words only ran out once they’d climbed the last step up to the castle entrance. The guards lining the gateway eyed them suspiciously, especially Jensen who was wheezing like a dying cat as he struggled to suck air into his uncooperative lungs. But, thankfully, they took only a quick glance at the family’s paperwork, before allowing them to pass by without trouble.

Having never set foot in the castle before, Jensen couldn’t say for certain if King Jared had made many changes in the year since he came to power. Somehow though, he doubted that King Michael had allowed children to run free and loud in his courtyard. Jensen’s nerves eased a little at the relaxed atmosphere which enveloped them as they made their way through the bustling activity of the castle grounds, and by the time they were directed towards the reception hall to await their audience with the king, both his nerves and his breathing were somewhat under control.

Jensen and his parents were far from the only ones in line to speak to King Jared. The king granted audiences only one day a month, and many people wanted the opportunity to seek favor or demand justice for slights against them. It took hours of patient waiting until it was finally the Ackles’ turn to enter the great hall. Two guards, strapping men fully armed with fierce steel swords, escorted them before King Jared.

The throne upon which the king sat was not that of King Michael. At least, not according to Jensen’s somewhat dubious source of information. Weatherly's throne, so legend and the stable boy told, was constructed with the bones of his enemies, coated in gold, naturally. Jensen was decidedly relieved that King Jared appeared to prefer a more simple iron and wood design. The two huge dogs ~~s~~ itting at his feet were an imposing enough sight.

Jensen, standing behind his parents, bowed low and long before daring to raise his eyes and look up at the king.

“The Ackles family,” a man standing by King Jared’s side announced. “Here to seek favor over a matter of land.”

Jensen’s mouth was dry as he gazed upon his king. He’d had no notion of what the king might look like. He hadn’t given it much thought in honesty; he'd been more worried about whether his parents were about to get them all killed by asking a warrior king for a petty favor. But had he given thought to King Jared’s appearance, Jensen would never have imagined him so young. Or so beautiful.

It was clear from the breadth of his shoulders and the thick line of muscles below his silk shirt that the king was built like an avenging God. Jensen could easily imagine him leading his soldiers into battle, sword held high in his huge hand and long hair flowing behind him. The sight alone would have men running in fear, Jensen was sure. But for one radiating such power, the king was surprisingly young. Jensen couldn’t be sure, but at a guess would say he was barely ten years older than Jensen himself. A king at less than thirty years of age was rare indeed. Especially a king who’d fought for his throne and apparently won over the allegiance of the former kings’ armies as well as the respect of his people.

Jensen was so wrapped in his thoughts that he missed most of his parents' groveling request. Not that he was sorry about that. He wasn’t snapped from his musings until the king’s eye caught his own and he realized that he’d been caught staring, mouth agape. Shame heating his face, Jensen immediately lowered his gaze to the floor, catching only the end of his father’s speech.

“...and that’s why the Ackles have the right to the land.”

“So,” Jensen peered up from under his eyelashes as the man standing beside the King replied. “You believe you have more right to the land than your neighbor because Squire Stewart owns more than you already. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Well, that is not quite how I would put it, Sir.” Jensen’s father seemed rather taken aback at the man’s cynical tone.

“Your Lord,” the guard standing nearest the family hissed. “Address Lord Morgan as Your Lord.”

“I’m sorry, _Your Lord_.” Jensen’s father dipped his head respectfully but did not sound overly apologetic.

“Have you considered that he owns more than you because he has worked harder to gain it?”

Jensen could almost hear the crack as his father’s spine stiffened at the acerbic question. He only hoped his father wouldn’t retaliate in a manner that would get them all killed.

“Now, Lord Morgan, we do not know this for fact.” The king spoke for the first time and Jensen’s heartbeat danced to the musical lilt of his voice. “Perhaps,” the king continued. “Squire Ackles has not had the good luck of his neighbor. It is unfortunate that the Stewarts are not here today to argue their own case.”

“Perhaps that is because they are hard at work caring for the land they have.” Lord Morgan observed. “They have petitioned to buy the abandoned land as well, and have offered the same price as the Ackles.”

Jensen knew for a fact that the neighboring family were much more competent farmers, managing to harvest far more bountiful crops. And unlike Jensen’s father who relied heavily on his family for labor and employed only seasonal workers, paying them a pittance, the Stewarts also employed several men and paid them wages generous enough to feed their families. In Jensen’s opinion, it made far more sense to allow the Stewarts to buy the land. It was only his father’s stubbornness and inflated ego that had brought the matter to this point.

“Well,” the king mused. “Perhaps we should determine how important the land is to Squire Ackles.”

Lord Morgan gave the king a curious look, which suggested to Jensen that he knew nothing of the king’s plan.

“I assure you, Your Highness,” Jensen’s father said, and Jensen cringed because surely you were not supposed to address the king without direct invitation. “My livelihood is the most important thing to my wife and I.”

“Hmm.” The king leaned forward in his seat, steepling his fingers and narrowing his eyes. “Is it now? So, if I were to offer you a deal, request something in exchange for the land, you would consider it?”

“Anything, Your Highness.” Jensen’s father rushed to assure the king.

“Anything? Hmmm.” The king acted as though the offer was a surprise, but there was a sharp glint in his eye that made the hairs on the back of Jensen’s neck prickle with suspicion. “So, if I were to offer you the land in exchange for your son here, that would be acceptable to you and your wife?”

A gasp ran through the room. Jensen froze on the spot.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, my son?” Jensen’s father sounded unsure for the first time.

“You did say the land was the most important thing to you? More important than your son then, I presume?”

“But...but what use would you have for the boy?” Jensen distantly heard his father ask, a low buzzing in his ears muffling the words. “He’s small and weak and prone to illness. He’s of no use to anyone.”

Shame curled in Jensen’s belly. Most fathers, he was certain, would have refused the king outright. Not questioned their son’s worth.

“I’m sure there must some use of a boy so pretty.” The king’s eyes lingered thoughtfully on Jensen. “He is so young still, and surely easy to train.”

Jensen swallowed hard.

“He turned eighteen this month past, Your Highness,” Jensen’s father pointed out, and still that wasn’t the refusal Jensen was waiting for.

“Eighteen is a perfect age.” The king’s face could have been a mask carved from stone for all that Jensen could read it. His voice cool and level. “Old enough to follow instruction and young enough to mold. Mold into what is the question. Maybe I could have him trained in the way of my warriors. Although you say he is weak, perhaps he would be better suited as entertainment for my guards.” The king paused and smirked in a way that made Jensen’s stomach twist. “But then again, he is far too pretty to waste on uncouth soldiers. Perhaps he could join my harem. A delicate young eunuch would…”

The excited whisper which had been creeping around the room since the king's first offer grew in scandalized volume. Jensen didn’t hear anything after the word eunuch; the frantic pounding of his heart drowning out the rest of the king’s words.

Jensen was an innocent. He was aware of this. His parents were unsociable and un-neighborly. They hadn't sent him to school, rather teaching him themselves. He learned what he knew from his parents' books and spent little time talking to others. A few stumbled words at the market were as much as he spoke to anyone who wasn’t family. Jensen spent most of his days isolated on the farm with only the animals as friends. The seasonal workers his father employed usually avoided him, and Jensen was too shy to seek out adventure or even friendship. Still, despite his naiveté, he knew what a harem was. What a eunuch was. And he knew his parents would never permit him to face such a hellish future.

“So,” said the king, ignoring the whispers and scandalized expressions around him. “What is your decision, Squire Ackles? The land or your son?”

Jensen’s father hesitated barely a second before replying. “I am honored that my son can be of service to you, Your Highness. I would happily place him in your benevolent care and take the land in recompense.”

That was not what Jensen, or many others judging by the gasps, expected to hear. Even the king’s inscrutable expression flickered into surprise for a brief moment, before settling back into a dispassionate facade.

“And you, Mrs. Ackles? You also agree to this? You are happy to hand your son over to me? Even if I want to cut off his balls? To make him my pet?”

From the corner of his eye, Jensen saw his mother nod stiffly. “If that is what you require, Your Highness. I only pray that Jensen will not disappoint you.”

“Very well.” King Jared nodded towards two guards standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to his throne. “Take young Master Ackles away while I finish dealing with his parents.”

The guards did as the king bid them, walking the few steps towards Jensen with grim determination on their faces. Jensen didn’t know what to do. He was struggling to comprehend how his parents could so casually bargain away his life and future all for the sake of a small piece of land.

Common sense dictated that resisting was useless; nevertheless, he instinctively took a step backwards, then another. One more retreating step was all he managed before the guards caught up with him, their hands clamping around his arms, one either side of him.

“Don’t do anything silly, kid,” the shortest one, standing at his left side, mumbled under his breath.

“We’re going to walk out of here nice and easy. You don’t want to cause a scene in front of all these nice people. They’ve already got enough gossip to keep them happy for a month.”

Neither Jensen’s mother nor his father looked his way as the guards led him from the room. Jensen wondered if his parents couldn’t or wouldn’t meet his gaze. If they felt anything at all for him. His legs numb and stomach rolling dangerously at the thought of what was to come, Jensen was almost grateful for the firm grip the guards had on his arms.

Once out of the room, the guards walked only far enough to turn a corner and be out of sight before stopping. To Jensen’s surprise they dropped their hold on his arms and turned to each other instead.

“Well,” the taller one said. “What do we do with him now?”

The shorter one shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

Jensen stared from one to the other.

“Do we take him to the dungeons? Is he a prisoner?”

“I don’t fucking know, Steve. It’s not like this has ever happened before.”

“Hey, don’t snap at me, this ain’t my fault, Christian.”

Jensen took a step backwards, his back brushing against the wall. Neither guard appeared to notice.

“You’re the one who volunteered us for goddamn guard duty today,” the short guard bit back, stabbing his finger into the other man’s chest.

“Well, excuse me for thinking it would be more entertaining than babysitting the queen while she visited her dressmaker. God knows the last time we pulled that duty, you bitched about it for a week afterwards.”

Jensen shuffled along the wall as the two men bickered, working his way down the corridor until he figured there was enough distance between them to attempt an escape. Not that he had any idea where he was escaping to, but standing around until the guards decided what to do with him seemed unwise. Especially when his manhood was at stake.

The two guards were still squabbling when Jensen, taking his chance, inched slowly around a corner and then ran. It took just a second before he heard the guards shouting at him to stop, but Jensen had no intention of doing that. He tore down the maze of corridors, running past stunned maids and dodging caught-on-the-hop soldiers. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but he didn’t slow his steps. He ran up a carpeted staircase, through a heavy door, slipped into a room and quickly backed out again when confronted by a barking dog big enough to eat a child whole.

The next door he tried was locked, as was the next. Heavy footsteps behind him were growing louder, closer. His heart jack-rabbited in his chest, his lungs failing under the strain. Jensen scrambled up another flight of stairs, but his legs were fast growing weary and his ability to breathe declining to the point that dark clouds were edging into his vision.

“Hey! Stop! Stop right there!”

“Ackles, for God’s sake, stop!”

The guard’s shouts only panicked him more, giving him a last-gasp burst of energy. He threw himself at another door, hoping to find somewhere to barricade himself in until air and common sense returned. He hadn’t bargained on the room being occupied.

A dozen women looked up as he all but fell inside the door, their mouths collectively dropping open in surprise. One lady, seated in a chair by the window let out a shrill scream. Another, kneeling on the floor by her feet, jumped up and placed herself between Jensen and the other women. A third grabbed a wine glass and made to throw it at Jensen’s head, only stopping when a fourth woman, long red hair flying, darted forward, drawing a silver dagger from her belt and holding it an inch from Jensen’s throat.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m...I’m...sorry,” Jensen gasped, chest heaving and vision swirling. “I...I...”

“Oh, shit!” Jensen heard the guardsmen cursing as they crashed into the room behind him.

He stumbled forward, away from them, even though he had nowhere to go and felt the pointed blade pierce his skin. For once he was grateful when he lost the fight for air and darkness overcame him.

 

*#*#*

 

“Well, that went well.”

Jared rolled his eyes at Jeff’s sarcasm and threw his crown down on the table, picking up a glass of wine in its stead. Harley and Sadie wandered away from his side, throwing themselves down on the rug in front of the fireplace with relieved whuffs.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Jeff snorted in disbelief. “How many times have I warned you these games would backfire?”

“Really, Jeff? I told you so? You think that’s an appropriate thing to say to your king?”

Jeff raised a distinctly unimpressed eyebrow. “You think it’s appropriate to threaten to cut off an innocent boy’s balls?”

Jared cringed. That hadn’t been his finest moment. But honestly, he’d simply been attempting to goad that Ackles prick into proving he couldn’t possibly be as big an asshole as he appeared. He honestly hadn't expected the old fool to sacrifice his son with barely a second’s hesitation. “Obviously I didn’t think Ackles would agree to it.”

“That kid’s no doubt pissing himself right now.” Jeff shook his head. “I know you’re still trying to make an impression upon the court, but trust me, most of the kingdom is ecstatic just to be rid of that lunatic Weatherly. You don’t have to put on a show all the time.”

“Of course I have to put on a show, Jeff. You think I’d have the support of the people if they knew I was just a bastard who got lucky on the battlefield?”

“You may be a bastard, but your bloodline is as pure as Weatherly could ever lay claim to and your victories on the battlefield were won with skill and bravery, not luck. Your men would follow you down into the pits of hell if you asked them to, and your people will come to love you just as fiercely given time.”

Jeff may be Jared’s harshest critic, but he was also his greatest supporter. The backbone of Jared’s success. Without him, Jared would still be on the battlefield, his men behind him, but without the power to actually change anything for the country and people he loved.

Jared h’mmed his acknowledgment of Jeff’s support and took a generous drink of wine. He’d fucked up today, and not for the first time since his stumble into power. He probably should listen to Jeff’s advice more often. The man was wiser and more learned than Jared, and he had far more patience for the political bullshit that went into ruling a country. Jared was a man of action, not of words. After the years spent fighting to end Weatherly’s reign of terror, it was almost a surprise when he found himself in the position of king.

“You are a natural leader, Jared. And a great one. You don’t need to use dramatics to prove it.”

Jared set down his glass and sighed. “A leader of soldiers perhaps, Jeff. I have no patience for political jostling and petty nonsense.”

Jeff quirked a smile at him. “You’ll get there, JT.”

Jared huffed a laugh. Jeff was the only man alive who could get away with calling him that. And though he didn’t often utter the old familiar nickname, sometimes it was a relief to hear it. A reminder of who Jared was. Where he came from.

“But now you have to decide what to do with the boy. You don’t actually want to see him castrated, I presume?”

“God, no,” Jared shuddered and picked up his wine glass again. “I don’t even know why I said it. His father was just such an arrogant prick. I wanted to see a crack in that self-righteous sneer.” And the son had been an easy target. Such a beautiful boy too. The prettiest thing Jared had seen in years. Jared couldn’t imagine giving up a treasure like that as easily as the boy’s father had.

“Well, he’s your responsibility now,” Jeff remarked, causing Jared to pause with his wine glass halfway to his mouth.

“What?”

“You bought him.”

Jared stiffened and slammed his glass down on the table, wine sloshing over the sides. “I certainly did not.”

Jeff skewered him with a look. “You offered his father the land in return for his son. What else would you call it?”

“It’s...I didn’t…that’s not...” Jared stumbled over his reply because, as loathe as he was to admit it, Jeff was right.

“So,” Jeff pressed. “What are you going to do with him?”

Jared was saved from answering by an urgent knocking at the door. He tried to hide his relieved sigh as he shouted his permission to enter, but the withering glance Jeff shot him suggested he failed miserably.

“Apologies, Your Highness,” the messenger, a guard whom Jared only faintly recognized, gasped. The man’s cheeks were flushed and a bead of sweat dribbled down his ruddy neck. Whatever his message, it was obviously urgent. “But the Queen requests—“

“An explanation.”

Jared’s eyes widened as his wife stormed into the room, eyes blazing. She was a fearsome sight despite her dainty stature. A lesser man might tremble. Jared gamely held his ground.

“An explanation for what, my darling Queen?”

Genevieve’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Jared shrunk about six inches. The dogs whined from beside the fireplace. “An explanation as to why there is a terrified child in the harem rooms who seems to think you’re going to have him castrated and turned into some kind of sex toy.”

“Oh, God,” Jared sighed. As though the situation wasn’t bad enough already. “How did he get there?”

“Apparently Steven and Christian were too busy debating your intentions to notice his escape. They chased that boy through the halls like a frightened rabbit before he fell into our rooms.”

“He didn’t hurt any of you?”

“Please,” Genevieve scoffed. “That child couldn’t hurt a fly. He could barely breathe by the time he stumbled upon us. Danneel scarcely even looked at him before he passed out.”

“He passed out?”

“Yes, Jared, he passed out. Now...an explanation?”

“It was an accident.” Jared tried to placate her. “I thought his father would place more value on his son than a scrap of land.”

“Oh Lord above,” Genevieve huffed. “I thought we’d talked about these stupid games of yours.”

Jeff let out a weird braying noise that sounded like an aborted laugh. Jared scowled.

“It wasn’t a game. I asked a simple question that any sane man would have clearly answered by choosing his son. How was I supposed to know Ackles was a lunatic? A king should be seen to act fairly and wisely, that is all I was trying to do. God above, you’re forever lecturing me about the importance of my public persona. About letting the people see me as a king, powerful and wise, not just a warrior. That’s what I was doing.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes, unimpressed. Sometimes Jared wondered if Weatherly had the right idea in his approach of banishment or beheading for the people who disrespected him.

“Good job, husband dearest. I’m sure the sweet-faced boy in terror for his life and his manhood thinks you are the wisest king in all creation.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, my darling Queen,” Jared replied testily. “Where is the boy now?"

“He’s quite safe.” Genevieve smiled sweetly, her white teeth flashing. “Your mother is looking after him.”

That brought Jared up short. “My...mother?”

“Yes, dear heart.” There was a troublesome glint in the queen's eyes. “Your mother. I do believe she would like a word with you.”

Jared groaned. Of course, his mother. Today was turning into the worst.

 

 

 

The first thing that Jensen noticed upon waking, before he even opened his eyes, was how comfortable he was. The feather cushioning underneath his back was a hundred times softer than his thin and aged mattress at home. He would have been content just to lie there, in the blissful fog between sleep and wakefulness, for as long as possible if he wasn’t quite so unsettled at not knowing where he was.

He opened his eyes to find four faces peering down at him, none of which he immediately recognized. They were all women, all beautiful, and all looking at him curiously.

“Um...” he said. Well, at least he was his normal articulate self.

“He’s awake.” One of the women spoke, her dark eyes staring intently at Jensen.

“We can all see that, thank you, Jessica,” another one replied, this one slightly older than the other two, a few strands of grey hair tucked in amongst her brunette bun.

“I told you I didn’t kill him,” the last one said, a tall redhead with bright eyes. “Honestly, I barely scratched him. You all overreact so much.”

And that’s when it came back to Jensen in an unwelcome rush: the king, his father, the guards, running, and the stunning woman with the knife. Any tiredness still drifting around his senses dissipated immediately.

“I...I’m—” Jensen wasn’t terribly sure what he was. Scared witless mainly. “—I’m sorry. For intruding upon you. I was—”

“You were running. We know,” the older woman said. “Christian and Steven were kind enough to enlighten us about the situation.”

“Oh,” Jensen said, gathering his wits enough to sit up and glance around. More women, maybe five or six, sat around the room which was large by any standards, even for a castle. Heavy silk drapes framed the windows and the furniture was all rich mahogany and plush fabrics, velvets and silks and furs. This was undoubtedly the room of nobility. Jensen’s escape plan had not gone well it seemed.

“I’m terribly sorry for my intrusion, ladies.” Jensen bowed his head slightly, not sure how he should address these women, or even who they were. Given the grandness of the room, it was safe to assume they were members of the royal household. “I’ll just...if you would just let me go...I’ll...”

The women all stiffened as Jensen shuffled around and set his feet on the floor.

The redhead placed her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think it would be wise to let you run off again, pretty boy. Chris and Steve are standing right outside the door pouting as we speak. And really, there’s no knowing what or who you might run into creeping about the castle on your own.”

Jensen’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Indeed,” the oldest women agreed. “If your first foray into the castle landed you in the king’s harem, then I dread to think where your luck would take you next.”

“The king’s harem?” Jensen parroted. “This...this is the king’s harem?”

“Of course,” the redhead smirked. “Where did you think you were?”

Jensen scooted back up on the bed again, drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Lord, he’d broken into the king’s harem. Jensen would be lucky if all the king wanted to chop off was his balls now.

“You...you all...all of you, you are the king’s...bedmates?”

The older woman let out the most inelegant snort. Soon, the rest of the women in the room joined in with her laughter. Jensen was unsure of the joke.

“Oh, your poor sweet child.” The older woman dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief pulled from the sleeve of her dress. “You have no doubt heard some wild tales. No, no, the harem is not where King Jared houses all his _bedmates_."

“It’s not?” Jensen could easily imagine the king wanting to bed the women around him. They were, without exception, beautiful.

“He should be so lucky,” the redhead smirked.

“I don’t know, Danneel,” a smaller, quieter woman spoke up. “I’d consider myself quite lucky to be bedded by King Jared. He is quite handsome. And tall. And built. All over, I imagine.”

“Please, Alexis,” the older woman sighed. “That’s my son. I’d rather not imagine how much he’s grown since I changed his diapers.”

The king’s mother? Oh Lord, she was the king’s mother. Lady Samantha. And Jensen was sitting upon her day bed.

“Now, child,” Lady Samantha, turned back to Jensen ready to explain. “You must understand that a harem isn’t some sordid sex thing. Well, to be truthful, in King Michael’s day it was. Many of the poor girls he kept at his beck and call are still here, sheltered within this sanctuary. But no, our traditions are much different. The harem is simply a place for the women of the castle to retreat to. The king likes to know that there is a safe place for us to go. Somewhere where no man can enter.”

Jensen’s eyes widened. He had most definitely broken a major rule by barging into this room. The king was probably signing his death warrant as they spoke.

Lady Samantha must have noticed the panic in his eyes.

“Normally our door is guarded, but for some reason when you stumbled across us the guard was absent from her post.”

Danneel shook her head. “Felicia was on duty and Kirstin is nowhere to be seen so I suspect that Kirstin has successfully seduced her yet again.”

“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Lady Samantha said before turning back to Jensen. “Anyway, whatever impression Jared might like to give to bolster his reputation, the ‘harem’ is simply a sanctuary for the woman of the castle. Somewhere for us to have companionship or refuge. And, unfortunately, after Weatherly’s reign there are too many women with good reason to want to stay far away from men.”

“So,” Jensen frowned, trying to make sense of things. “Why did the king say he would turn me into a...a eunuch and make me part of his harem?”

Lady Samantha’s frown matched Jensen’s own. “That is something I would very much like to know myself.”

Just at that, there was a brisk knock, and the door swung open. Jensen lurched to his feet at sight of the king, unsure whether to run and hide, or bow and beg.

Lady Samantha solved his dilemma by gently pushing him back down onto the day bed and placing herself very deliberately between King Jared and Jensen.

“I believe you requested my presence, Mother?”

Lady Samantha drew herself up tall, shoulders pulled back and chest out. Though she was at least a foot shorter than the king, Jensen could see how much effort on the king’s part it took not to take a step back.

“Indeed, your great and majestic Highness. And how very kind of you to come visit me so swiftly. We are, as always, honored by your presence.”

The words were polite in the extreme but the tone of voice was sharp enough to flay skin. Jensen was glad not to be on the receiving end of Lady Samantha’s fury.

The king, to his credit, did not flinch, although when Jensen peered around the formidable woman in front of him, he did spot the king’s eye twitching.

“Ah, I see you are in fine form today, Mother,” the king replied. “That would explain why Christian and Steven are cowering outside in the hallway.”

“That has more to do with Danneel’s knife skills than me, I can assure you. Now, I believe I have something belonging you? Although, I did not realize we were now condoning slavery or mutilation. Perhaps you’ve decided to take a leaf from King Michael’s book?”

King Jared sighed loudly. “This is simply a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” If Jensen thought the woman’s voice was sharp before, now it was cold enough to freeze souls. “Did you or did you not buy this child from his family for a measly strip of land?”

“I didn’t _buy_ him,” King Jared replied. “Not intentionally anyway. That’s not—“

Jensen was shocked when Lady Samantha cut off his explanation. “Ah, I see, so, you didn’t buy him, and you didn’t threaten to mutilate him. To turn him into a eunuch.”

“Mother, really, I don’t think we should discuss this here and now, not in front of—“

“Jared Padalecki, you may be king and you may not think you answer to anyone but God, but you are my son, and I raised you better than...than _this_!”

It struck Jensen at that moment that this was not a woman talking to a king. This was the fire and brimstone fury of a disappointed mother. Jensen very nearly felt sorry for the king. Or he would have done, if he wasn’t still doubtful he would live to see nightfall.

“Mother, please.” King Jared’s placating tone was not that of a fearsome warrior king. Jensen shuffled slightly to the side so he could see the king clearly. The man was holding his hands up in front of him, palms facing his mother in surrender. Lord Jeffrey standing behind him looked rather cowed too. Perhaps because Danneel was positioned at his side, glaring darkly. Even without her knife, she looked dangerous.

“This has all gotten out of hand. Won’t you sit so we can discuss the matter civilly?”

Lady Samantha glanced pointedly back at Jensen. “No, I believe I’m fine where I am.”

King Jared shrugged his broad shoulders. “Fine, but please, just hear me out. I admit it looks bad.”

Lady Samantha clucked her tongue at that.

Jensen listened intently as the king explained how he came to offer Jensen’s father the land in exchange for Jensen himself, his eyes growing wide and jaw slowly dropping open as he grew to understand that the king had been setting some kind of test. That Jensen had merely been a pawn in a game he didn’t know was being played.

“Good Lord, Jared,” Lady Samantha snapped at the end of his explanation. “I thought better of you than to play games of chance with innocent lives.”

“I’m sorry,” King Jared snapped back, before he schooled his features and cooled his tone. “I apologize for making such a needless mess out of this entire situation. It certainly was not my intent. I assure you, if I’d thought for one second that the boy’s father would trade him for a few fields I would never have offered the deal. I will make amends.”

“And how, pray tell, do you propose to do that?”

Jensen was curious to know the answer to that too.

King Jared set his eyes fully on Jensen. There was an intensity in his fox-eyed stare that made the blood rush to Jensen’s cheeks. He squirmed under the attention, doing his best to duck back out of sight behind Lady Samantha.

“I will of course take young Master Ackles here under my protection.”

“Of course,” Lady Samantha replied, obviously expecting rather more from her son.

“And I will overlook the fact that he trespassed into the harem rooms.”

A cold chill ran down Jensen's spine. While the king’s words should have been reassuring, his icy tone implied quite the opposite.

Lady Samantha matched the king’s tone and then some. “As I would expect, considering he did not know he was trespassing and, as far as he was concerned, was running for his life.”

King Jared threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Why don’t you tell me what I should do in reparation, Mother? You obviously know better than me.”

“Well, I would start by lowering your voice, before you terrify the child.”

“Seriously, Mother, he’s eighteen; a man by any standard.”

“When Josephine was eighteen, you refused to let Lord Ashton court her because she was still a child. When _you_ were eighteen I caught you and Christian trying to—”

King Jared coughed violently, cutting off the end of his mother’s sentence. Jensen was rather disappointed. He suspected it would have been an interesting tale.

“Fine. Fine. I take your point,” the king conceded, a pink hue coloring his cheeks either from his coughing fit or embarrassment. “Look, considering what little regard they had for his well-being, I cannot allow young Ackles here to return with his parents. With the haste they left in, I’m sure they’re already miles away anyway. But I promise I will take him under my wing, let it be known he is under my protection.”

Lady Samantha nodded, apparently satisfied. “And make plans with him for his future.”

The king rolled his eyes but nodded his assent, and within minutes Jensen found himself following the man from the room.

 

*#*#*

 

Jared’s head was pounding by the time he finally escaped his mother’s wrath. He couldn’t recall the last time he wanted a day just to be over quite so badly.

Unfortunately his day was not yet done; he had not escaped his mother’s company unencumbered.

The boy, Ackles, scurried after him out of the harem rooms, his doe eyes wide and skinny limbs shaking. Jared had no idea what he was supposed to do with the lad.

He knew what he would like to do with him—the boy was even prettier than his wife—but his mother would definitely not approve of that. And the current level of her ire almost made Jared fear for his own balls. She hadn’t been that cross with him since his dogs had eaten her new dancing slippers.

“Chris, Steven, you useless idiots,” Jared barked. “Take Ackles and—“

“Erm…” Walking at his shoulder and apparently unable to keep his nose out of the matter, Jeff interrupted. “Not to interfere, but you did just promise your mother that you would take care of the boy.”

Jared threw a dark look over his shoulder at Ackles, who was staring intently at the floor as he followed Jared and Jeff through the hallways. Chris and Steve, who, in Jared’s opinion, were almost entirely to blame for this whole mess, brought up the rear of their sorry party. The pair of them were scowling at Ackles almost as fiercely as Jared.

“You know,” Jared said, stopping abruptly and spinning around to look at the boy directly. “After running from my guards and trespassing in the harem rooms, you’re lucky we’re not taking you straight to the cells. If Weatherly was still king, you’d be hanging by your neck in the courtyard right now.”

Jared expected the boy to tremble. To cower in front of Jared. Maybe even sob like the child his mother thought he was. Instead, Ackles’ features took on a mulish appearance; his eyes narrowing and chin jutting out.

“If Weatherly was still king, Your Highness,” Ackles spoke with a quiet determination that hinted, for the first time, there might be more to the boy than feminine features and a soft nature. “My parents would not have ventured to the castle seeking favor or kindness.”

Jared harrumphed at that, and observed, quite accurately he thought, “If your parents deserved kindness, they would not have been so quick to throw you to the wolves, or the big bad king.”

Jensen paled but said nothing. At least not aloud; his eyes spoke volumes, none of which was complimentary.

“Enough.” Jared spun back, continuing his march through the hallway. “I’m done with this for the day. Chris, Steve, find the boy a room, make sure he doesn’t run off this time, and I’ll deal with him tomorrow. Jeff, not one single word. I’m going to my chambers.”

With that, Jared lengthened his stride and stormed away to his bed chambers, the black cloud hovering around his head blinkering him from the startled looks and panicked evasion of everyone in his path.

 

This was not what Jared had expected when the mantle of king fell upon his shoulders. He’d expected respect and the love of his people; help and encouragement from his family, and the unwavering support of his loyal friends. Loyal friends like Jeff who’d pushed and praised and pleaded with Jared to use the advantage of his bloodline and men willing to follow him into battle to oust King Weatherly.

Jared grew up knowing he was the son of King Robert. It was no secret. In fact, it had been a widely accepted fact in the castle and across the land. Unfortunately, Weatherly had murdered the great man before he’d had a chance to marry Jared’s mother, leaving Jared a bastard and his mother in fear for their lives. They’d spent most of Jared’s life in various remote towns and villages, moving whenever Jared’s mother suspected Weatherly’s men might have sniffed out their location.

Despite this uncertain and at times dangerous childhood, or maybe because of it, Jared had grown into a formidable warrior and a natural leader. But when Jeff had urged him to unite the rebel groups springing up in defiance of Weatherly and his cruel regime, Jared had agreed to it only to see that demon Weatherly defeated, not out of some great desire to replace him on the throne.

Fighting was something Jared was good at; politicking, not so much. When he tried to make wise and clever decisions, they had a habit of backfiring. Although not usually quite as spectacularly as today.

“Sire, your bath is drawn. Is there anything else I can help you with? Maybe I can warm your bed while you are bathing?”

Jared stopped at the door of his bathing chamber and considered. Matt, his loyal and rather handsome attendant was always a very willing, and enthusiastic bedmate. Lord knows, Jared had spent himself in the man more times than he had his wife. Of course, he and Genevieve had only slept together until she’d finally caught with his child so that wasn’t the number it could have been.

Still, Jared wasn’t sure he was in the right frame of mind for Matt’s company. The man didn’t deserve to feel the brunt of his bad temper.

“No, that’s fine. Thank you though, Matt.” Jared dismissed him.

Matt smiled easily, in no way heartbroken by Jared’s rebuff. That’s what made him a perfect attendant; while he was always up for some fun, he saw Jared as nothing more than his King and a good fuck. Love, companionship, and commitment were not things he sought, at least not from Jared.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me, Sire.” Matt closed the door behind him, and Jared heard him snapping orders at the guards not to let Jared be disturbed. A little of the tension eased from Jared’s shoulders, the rest dissolving a short while later when he sank into the large iron bathtub filled with water and the sweet calming oils that Jared regularly complained about, but which Matt knew he secretly loved.

Lord above, what trouble young Ackles had caused. If only the boy hadn’t been so pretty, Jared might just have thrown his greedy parents out of the castle and that would have been the end of the matter. But even though Jared had wished for the opportunity to see a little more of the young man, he’d never dreamed that the boy’s father would be so mercenary. It did make Jared wonder what childhood Jensen Ackles could have had with parents that loved him so little. Jared’s mother might be an interfering battle-axe, but she loved Jared more than life itself. She'd proven that time and time again, throwing herself in between Jared and those who wished to harm him on countless occasions as he grew from baby to boy to man.

Still, Jared did not wish to think of his mother right now, no. As he lay back in the bathtub allowing the water to soothe his aches, he allowed his mind to wander back to young master Ackles. The brightness of his eyes, the dark sweep of his eyelashes, the tempting curve of his lips. And his delectable ass.

Jared took his cock in his hand, slowly teasing himself to full hardness. It didn’t take long, not with the image of Ackles in his head. The boy was Jared’s deepest desires come to life. He pictured Ackles on his knees, those wide green eyes staring up at him. He trailed his fingers down his chest and across his abs, all the way down to his hips, across the inside of his thigh until he was cupping his balls, squeezing them gently as his other hand worked his dick.

The things he’d like to do to that boy. The tricks he could teach him. The pleasures he could give him. Whatever delights Ackles had experienced rolling in the hay with his friends and young lovers, none of them could surely have possessed the experience or equipment that Jared was blessed with.

He wondered if the boy had ever sucked cock before. With lips like those, it was a crime if he had not. God-given gifts should never be ignored. Jared imagined it would still be a trial for the kid to suck Jared down fully. Few people could manage it.

Jared tugged on his dick, just a little too hard, hissing at the burst of pain/pleasure in his gut. He gentled his touch and twisted his wrist, shivering as his balls tightened in his grasp.

He pictured himself feeding his dick past the soft stretch of lips, easing into the resistance of an inexperienced throat. Teardrops pooling in wide eyes, sparkling in candlelight. Imagined the gasps and whimpers as Jared cradled Ackles' head in his hands and fucked his dick deeper and deeper until his balls were finally pressed against the delicate point of Ackles’ chin, his cheeks flushed breathless red and tears falling from glittering eyes.

Jared came with a gasp, come spurting through his fingers and across his belly, quickly washed away by the bath water. Jared sighed and stretched before relaxing back against the tub, the day’s stresses momentarily chased from his mind.

Perhaps, he mused, he could talk Matt into taking Jensen under his wing. See if he could train the boy into becoming an attendant. Perhaps even a bedmate. It was certainly an idea that bore exploration. Jared couldn’t think of anything else the slip of a pretty boy was likely to excel at. And God...those lips.

 

*#*#*

 

The bed Jensen spent the night on was clean, comfortable and warm; perfectly acceptable in every way. Still, he’d slept sounder lying on the straw-strewn floor of the stables than on the feather soft mattress.

Perhaps because the company in the stables had been more to his liking. And quieter. Steven and Christian had bickered right up until they finally fell asleep. Even then, they weren’t silent.

If pushed, Jensen would have to admit that the two snoring men weren't the real source of his insomnia. That, Jensen knew, was the uncertainty which the new day brought with it. He had no idea what King Jared had in store for him, but after all the trouble Jensen had caused, he doubted it would be pleasant.

“You know,” Christian said, walking out of the small washroom, shirt unbuttoned and belt dangling loose. “You don’t have to look quite so miserable. The king isn’t about to take your head.”

Jensen tried not to stare at the soldier’s chest, or at the light trail of hair that traveled south from his navel down to the top of his pants. The man seemed to have no shame in exposing himself so openly. Jensen had only seen that much nudity once, when a worker on the farm had stripped off his shirt on a particularly humid day. When he’d seen Jensen glancing at the man, his father had made sure the poor man had never worked for them again. God, his father had told Jensen, as he beat him bloody in the woodshed, required modesty, humility and chastity.

“Or your balls,” Steven added from where he was lacing his boots. Jensen blinked away thoughts of his father’s leather belt. “I know he was a bit...short tempered yesterday, but King Jared’s a good guy. We wouldn’t be here with him if he wasn’t.”

Jensen stayed silent. Partly because he was shocked at how informally they talked about the king, and partly because he didn’t entirely believe them.

“You don’t believe us?” Steven asked, reading the thoughts that were no doubt evident on Jensen’s face. “We’ve known Jared since we were boys, and trust me, he hasn’t changed that much. He’s not perfect, but he does what he thinks is best.”

“That’s true...usually.” Christian grinned and winked at Jensen. “When his dick isn’t the one in charge.”

Steven threw a balled up stocking at Chris’s head. “Even his dick makes better decisions than you, asshole. Come on, let’s grab some breakfast before we go looking for the great man himself. You must be starving, kid; I didn’t see you eat anything yesterday?”

Jensen shrugged and looked away from Steven’s questioning look. He didn’t think it should be a shock to anyone that his appetite had failed him after the day he’d had.

“Not real chatty, are you?” Christian commented as he finished dressing himself. “We’re not the bad guys here, okay? We’re not going to hurt you. We’re just making sure you don’t land yourself in trouble wandering around this draughty old dump of a castle on your own.”

Jensen snorted. That was, for lack a better word, horseshit. He was a prisoner, pure and simple, no matter how nicely the guards were treating him.

Steven grinned ruefully at Jensen, and slapped Christian across the back of his head. “He’s not an idiot, Chris, don’t treat him like one.”

“Hey!” Chris smacked Steven’s chest with the back of his hand and then made a show of fixing his hair. “It’s true. Look at the shit he got us...I mean _himself_...in yesterday running about unsupervised.” The pair of them were still squabbling like children when they left the room, and they hadn’t stopped by the time they reached the kitchens. Jensen found their relaxed banter amusing and oddly reassuring, not that he gave the pair of fools the satisfaction of telling them so.

 

Jensen was unsurprised that their entrance into the kitchen was met with a few raised eyebrows and furtive giggles. He imagined that his prison guards had their fair share of admirers; they were both attractive men, although Jensen would never admit that out loud. He could barely admit it to himself. And, Jensen presumed, he was doubtless the subject of some castle gossip after yesterday’s dramatics. From what he gathered, especially from the king’s mother’s reaction, the king didn’t routinely threaten to geld young men and force them to join his harem.

“Well,” one portly woman, her hands and forearms white with flour, looked Jensen up and down critically before saying, “I suppose you are a pretty one. I can see why you caught the king’s eye.”

“What, prettier than me?” Chris quipped before stealing a bread roll from a cooling rack. “I’m shocked at you, woman.”

“The cabbages for the soup are prettier than you, Christian,” the woman scoffed, but the eye roll she gave the soldier was full of fond amusement rather than annoyance. “Now sit your backsides down and stop stealing my food, let one of the girls make you up some breakfast plates instead.”

Along with Chris and Steven, Jensen did as he was bid. Despite his lack of appetite he was soon tucking into a breakfast that was fit for a king. Although, Jensen supposed King Jared ate far grander meals in a far more lavish setting. Still the breakfast spread was more than enough for Jensen. In fact, not being accustomed to such generous portions, he finished eating, his stomach full to bursting, way before his companions.

His attention was soon diverted by a pair of kittens playing in the corner of the room. No doubt they were mousers in training but at the moment they were more interested in chasing an escaped blueberry across the floor. With only a brief glance at the two guards still working their way through a mountain of food, Jensen picked up a sliver of crisped bacon, got up from the table and made his way to the corner of the room. Chris may have said something about not wandering off but as his mouth was filled with blood sausage it was difficult to tell, and easy to ignore.

Jensen knelt down on the stone floor and immediately found himself under playful attack by two curious kittens sniffing out his treat. By the time the bacon was nothing but a smear of grease on Jensen’s fingers, he had two new friends. He would have been quite content to play with the adorable balls of fur all day. Unfortunately an unexpected and loud presence in the kitchen reminded Jensen that was not an option.

“Sire, what are you doing down here? Was breakfast not to your liking?” The woman who’d greeted them earlier asked, and Jensen looked up.

King Jared strode through the door with Lord Morgan following closely behind him. The two guards, cheeks bulging with food, sharply stood up beside the table. The king didn’t even appear to notice them, too intent on scouring the worktops.

“Not at all, Loretta; it was delicious. But I know you’re hiding some sweet treats down here. Weren’t you making blueberry muffins yesterday?”

The woman, Loretta, bustled across the kitchen, producing a stack of cakes from underneath a cloche. “Sire, if you wanted muffins you should have sent Matt for them. You don’t have to come all the way down to the kitchen yourself.”

“You just don’t want me eating your kitchen bare.” The king grinned at her, helping himself to the biggest muffin on the plate, and for the first time Jensen noticed the boyish dimples that appeared in the man’s face when he smiled. “Besides,” he said through a mouthful of food. “I’ve rather worn out Matt this morning; I figured he deserved some rest.”

Lord Morgan sighed loudly. “Really, Sire, I don’t think the entire kitchen needs to hear of your bedroom adventures.”

Jensen’s cheeks warmed when he realized what the men were talking about.

“Don’t be such a prude, Jeff,” the king winked.

“Perhaps if I hadn’t had to wait forty minutes while you tired the poor man out, I would be feeling more charitable.”

“You’re just jealous, old man. I bet your stamina isn’t what it once was, is it? Or are you worried that I’ve left Matt so satisfied that he won’t need to seek your company tonight? You know if you want Matt all to yourself you need only say. And perhaps talk to the boy about it. I believe he would be quite amenable to your twitterpated overtures.”

Lord Morgan shook his head at the king’s grin. “Maybe we should get back to discussing the matter at hand.”

“We’ve discussed it, Jeff,” the king said, helping himself already to another muffin. The man certainly had a voracious appetite.

Lord Morgan sighed again and scratched his fingers through his beard. “I’m telling you it’s not a good idea. And I’m most definitely not going to be the one telling your mother if you go ahead with it.”

“It’s a perfectly respectable idea,” the king argued. “And I don’t see why my mother would have a problem with it, or quite frankly, what business it is of hers anyway.”

Lord Morgan raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes and the king shrugged. “What would you have me do with him, Jeff? Ackles isn’t much more than a slip of a boy. He fainted yesterday for God’s sake. He’s obviously not hardy enough to work outside.”

Jensen stiffened at the mention of his name, realizing he was the matter under discussion.

“Having Matt train him as a valet though? Your manservant? You don't think your motives are transparent?”

“I’m giving him a job. A respected place in the castle. A position that some people would kill for.”

“A position that Matt has filled perfectly easily on his own up until now.” Lord Morgan noted.

“Well, lately his attention has been somewhat diverted by a friend of mine,” King Jared replied, and to Jensen’s surprise Lord Morgan actually blushed. Before he could respond however, King Jared finally noticed Steven and Chris standing at the table.

“Chris? Steve? What the hell are you doing?”

Steve raised his eyebrows and indicated the table in front of them. “Breakfasting, Sire?”

King Jared threw his hands in the air and glowered. “And where the hell is Ackles? Please God, don’t tell me you lost him again?”

Chris nodded silently towards the corner of the kitchen where Jensen was kneeling with a kitten in his arms.

Jensen swallowed hard as King Jared turned towards him. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Certainly no one in the kitchen so far had bowed down before the king, and there was a level of informality that Jensen would never have expected. But still, he was not the king’s favorite person and he didn’t want to anger the man. In the end, he dithered so long the king was speaking again before he made a decision.

“Look at him,” King Jared said to Lord Morgan, waving dismissively in Jensen’s direction. “The boy wouldn’t survive a day doing physical work. He doesn’t have a tough bone in that delicate body of his.”

Jensen set the kitten down beside her sister and stood up. King or no king, he wasn’t going to just take that kind of belittlement.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” Jensen bobbed his head in as small a bow as he could respectfully manage. “That is not true. I grew up on a farm. I’ve worked hard since I was a boy. I am as hardy as...as any of your men.”

King Jared placed his hands on his hips and eyed him thoughtfully. “You’re as hardy as my men, are you? You think you’re as tough as my best soldiers here?” The king jerked his head towards Chris and Steve who were watching the exchange open mouthed.

Copying King Jared and placing his hands on his hips, Jensen bit back, “I think I could be, given the chance.”

The king scoffed. And then narrowed his eyes. And then tapped his fingers against his mouth in contemplation. “Okay, I have a deal for you, young Ackles,” he said when he finally spoke. “Spend two days training with my soldiers, just two, and if you last the entire time, you can take your pick of whatever position you please; soldier, stable boy, apprentice to anyone you like...the blacksmith, the swordsmith, even the royal tailor if you so wished.”

“And if he doesn’t last the two days,” Lord Morgan asked instead of Jensen, who was refusing to admit to King Jared or even himself that failure was a possibility.

“If you don’t,” the king addressed Jensen. “Then you do as I suggest, and take up a position as assistant to my valet, Matt, and learn at his shoulder all the ways he serves me.”

Having listened to the prior conversation, Jensen suspected he knew precisely what manner the king’s valet served him, and it was not something Jensen wished to learn. No matter how handsome the king was. That kind of thing was...ungodly. But if he wanted a chance to prove himself, this deal seemed to be Jensen’s only option.

“Deal,” Jensen blurted out, before he could change his mind. “Two days and then I want to be a soldier. To join your guards.”

To Jensen’s surprise, the king strode forward and stuck his hand out. Jensen stared at him, astounded, for a full ten seconds before nervously taking hold of it. The king’s hand was rough and callused, the hand of a man who knew how to work hard and wield a sword, but still his touch was surprisingly delicate. He didn’t try to prove his strength by crushing Jensen’s smaller hand, just gently held it and shook it once to seal their deal.

Then King Jared turned back to Lord Morgan and clapped his hands jovially. “There you go; now you can report to my mother that the boy made his own decision. And in two days’ time, I will have a new manservant.”

Jensen grit his teeth and swore to himself that would not be the case. He would be a soldier. He was not the soft boy the King thought he was. Or the pathetic failure his father thought him to be. He would do whatever it took. Push his body as hard as he could. Harder if he had to. He could learn to be a soldier. A protector rather than a pawn.

 

 

 

 

“You’re an ass.”

“That is no way to talk to your king.”

“It is, however, a perfectly acceptable way to talk to my husband who also happens to be an ass.”

Jared glowered down at Genevieve briefly before looking back out across the castle grounds.

The balcony had an excellent view of the training square. “I have no idea what I’ve done to upset you this time, dearest wife. Perhaps you should enlighten me.”

Genevieve gestured over the balcony to where the guards were training. “You ordered them to break him.”

“I did no such thing,” Jared said, evenly. He had not, for the record.

“No?” Genevieve remained unconvinced. Right at that moment Jensen doubled over after receiving a blow to the gut with the butt of a training sword.

Jared and Genevieve both winced.

“No?” Genevieve repeated, with even more challenge in her voice.

“No,” Jared assured her. “I simply asked they not go easy on him. It would do Ackles a disservice if they were not to test him thoroughly. Battle is no place for a boy with gentle hands and a sweet nature.”

“And what is his place? In your bed?”

“Of course not,” Jared bit back shortly. “Not that I would object to it obviously. But you should know I would never force anyone into my bed.”

“No, you’d never force him, I do know that,” Genevieve conceded. “That is not the kind of man you are. But...” she sucked in a breath as Jensen hit the ground, the back of his head smacking against the mud. “But,” she continued, when Jensen finally crawled to his feet and squared up to Omundson, the captain of Jared’s guards. “You can have tunnel vision when you want something badly. I don’t want to see you do anything you come to regret.”

Jared had to admit she had a point. Once he’d set his mind on something or someone, he was rather intractable.

“I promise you, Genevieve, that I will put no pressure on the boy to sleep with me,” Jared swore. “And I will instruct Omundson to give him a chance. But fair warning, if the boy decides I am not a monster, if he wants to discover the pleasurable delights I can offer, I will not be able to deny him.”

Genevieve laughed and shook her head at him. “How will he ever be able to resist your modest charms, I wonder?”

Jared grinned. “Trust me, my darling Genevieve, he won’t.”

“Well, husband dearest, you’d better go pass the news to Omundson that you’d like Jensen back in one piece.”

Jared looked back out across the training square to see Jensen once again flat on the ground. This time, he was face down.

“I think I might just do that,” he conceded.

 

Unfortunately, thanks to Jeff and news of yet another pocket of Weatherly sympathizers causing trouble, it was a good hour before Jared finally made it down to the training square. He was just in time to watch Jensen drag himself up from the ground and stand unsteadily on foal-weak knees.

He did not look well. Underneath the ruddy flush high on his cheeks, the boy’s skin was pale. Sweat soaked his hair and the back of his shirt. He looked minutes away from collapsing where he stood, exhaustion dragging at his muscles. But when he saw Jared’s approach, Ackles’ shoulders straightened and his eyes blazed. His body might have been beaten, but his spirit obviously was not. Jared was unexpectedly pleased about this.

“Okay, listen up, you have fifteen minutes. One lap around the castle grounds. Ackles, for fuck’s sake, don’t fall too far behind the rest of the men, or you’ll never find your way back and I’m not coming to look for you.”

With much grumbling, the men set off at a slow but steady pace. It had apparently been a hard training session for them all.

“Sire?” Omundson nodded a short bow when Jared reached his side.

“I was just coming out to tell you not to break the boy too badly, but he seems to be holding up, at least in spirit.”

“Ah, young Ackles. Yes, there is nothing wrong with that boy’s spirit. He’s a fighter if ever I’ve seen one. It’s a shame his body is not quite so hardy. But I’m sure with some time and my personal training he could make quite the soldier. Alas, I fear that’s not what Your Highness has in mind for him.”

“No, I have to admit I think Ackles’ talents lie elsewhere.”

“He is a pretty lad,” Omundson nodded his agreement. “He’d certainly be a distraction in the field, although to us or our enemies I’m not so sure.”

“Exactly,” Jared said. “He’d be far safer in the castle.”

“And I’m sure it’s his safety, Your Highness is most concerned about,” Omundson said, managing to sound sarcastic and perfectly deferential at the same time. “Well, I’m almost finished with him for the day anyway. Once the men return, I’ll send them all to the barracks to wash off and eat. I’m sure Ackles will need plenty of rest before tomorrow.”

“And you will,” Jared wavered, battling with himself. He knew the right thing to do was tell Omundson to give the lad a fair chance, but this was one deal he desperately wanted to win. But, he was not Weatherly. He wasn’t a monster. “You will give him a fair chance tomorrow,” he eventually managed to say. “I mean, if you think there is a place for him in the guards and it’s what he wishes to do, I should not...I will not stand in the way.”

Omundson’s eyes widened for just a second, no doubt recounting the orders Jared had given him just yesterday to not spare an ounce of leniency on the boy.

“Of course, Sire, if those are your thoughts on the matter. The day will be hard for him regardless. Our training sessions are never easy, as you know.”

Indeed they were not. Jared trained a lot of these men himself. He’d trained and fought along with Timothy Omundson for years before the war had finally been won.

“Perhaps,” Omundson said, a grin spreading across his face. “Your Regal Highness would enjoy a little sparring practice? It’s been a few weeks since we last had the chance.”

“Timothy!” Jared grinned back, delighted, and already removing his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves. “That is an excellent idea. It has been far too long since I last handed your ass to you.”

“Old friend,” Tim said dropping all formality. “I fear power is going to that shaggy head of yours. I have no doubt that my ass is perfectly safe from your sword these days.” Jared laughed at Tim’s cheeky wink and caught the sparring sword that he threw towards him.

It didn’t take long before Jared felt beads of sweat dripping down his neck. Tim didn’t go easy on him, but Jared had lost none of his prowess with a sword and matched him blow for blow. It was a familiar dance between them, one they’d performed countless times. Jared missed this; the exertion, the laughter, the easy camaraderie with his men. His friends.

Whatever anyone else thought, being king, holding all that power, that responsibility, was not something Jared had ever yearned for. Jeff had persuaded him it that it was his responsibility to bring peace and fairness back to the land, but in truth Jared had never been happier than when he was shoulder to shoulder with his friends, in battle or in play. It was easy to fall back into the cut and thrust of the movements. The sword play relaxing, invigorating and utterly consuming.

Both men were so absorbed in their contest they failed to notice the return of the guards, all of whom formed a raggedy circle around them, engrossed in the breathtaking display their captain and king were performing. It wasn’t until a frantic shout went up that the pair’s concentration faltered. Tim freezing at the exact moment Jared did, their senses equally keen.

“Help! I need help now.”

Jared and Tim were running in the direction of the cry before the rest of the men could move their feet, sprinting down the path and around the corner where they found a young soldier kneeling on the ground next to a fallen man. Jared’s heart stuttered in his chest when he saw the man lying on the ground struggling for breath was Ackles.

“Fetch my physician,” Jared bellowed at the men who’d followed them. “Beaver. Get Beaver here now.”

“What the hell happened, Osric?” Tim barked at the young soldier kneeling on the ground.

“He...he couldn’t keep up. And I...thought...I...I didn’t want to leave him behind...so...I slowed down, but all of a sudden he just...he just fell over. He was wheezing and...and his face—“

“Easy now,” Tim said to Ackles, pushing the panicked soldier out of the way. “Easy. Try to relax.”

“Relax? The boy can’t breathe,” Jared snapped, knowing he wasn’t helping but unable to stop himself. “Here, help me sit him up.”

Jared dropped to his knees, sliding his hand under the boy’s back, raising him and tugging him around until he was sitting more or less upright, his back resting against Jared’s front.

The boy was so light; bird boned and fragile, not nearly healthy enough for a man of eighteen. Guilt bore into Jared’s heart. Jensen Ackles was under his protection, Jared should never have pushed him this far.

“Slow your breathing, in and out,” Tim said, ripping open Jensen’s shirt buttons. “Shh, it’s okay, Jensen, just listen to my voice, in and out.”

Jared found himself slowing his own breathing in time with his friend’s words, but Jensen was still gasping for air like a dying man, awful wheezes dragged from his mouth every time he exhaled.

“Shh,” Jared said, keeping his voice low and calm. “Just breathe in time with us. You’re going to be fine.” Somehow Jared’s hand found its way onto Jensen’s chest, the boy’s skin clammy under his palm, the beat of his heart frantic. Jared was relieved he couldn’t see Jensen’s face. He didn’t think he would be able to keep up a pretense of calm if he could see the same terror in the boy’s eyes that he could feel vibrating under his fingers.

It felt like an age before Doc Beaver finally made it to their sides. Long enough that Jensen’s breathing had started to slow down, exhaustion replacing some of the tension in his spine. His weight rested more heavily against Jared.

“What took you so long,” Jared growled as Beaver examined the stricken boy.

“I’m a physician, not a goddamn magician,” Beaver growled back at him. “I can’t just appear because the king wants me to. Now, what the hell did you do to this kid?”

“Nothing,” Jared bit out, aware of the guilt coloring his face. “He was simply training with the guards. Sparring. Running. Nothing more than that.”

“It’s Ackles, isn’t it? Jensen?” Beaver was talking to the boy but it was Jared and Tim who answered yes for him.

“Has something like this happened before?”

This time Jared and Tim could not answer, but Jensen eventually managed to give a shaky nod.

“Hmm,” Beaver said, which did nothing to appease Jared.

“Does it happen often when you exert yourself?”

Jensen nodded.

“Any other times?”

Jensen nodded again, but this time he also managed to squeeze out a few words.

“When...when it’s v…very cold...and also hot. And s…s…sometimes when...” he gave up on whatever he was trying to say with a frustrated huff, slamming his screwed up fist against his chest.

“Okay, that’s won’t help, son,” Beaver admonished. “Now, I reckon this attack is easing off some?”

Jensen stuck to nodding this time and although the strained wheeze he made every time he exhaled still sounded dire to Jared, it was not as terrifying as it had seemed at first.

“Okay, well, we’ll give you another few minutes and then we’ll get you back to my rooms. I think I might have a tincture or two that may help.”

“You know what caused this?” Jared asked. He’d seen men short of breath before, Lord above, he’d seen men dying before, but he’d never seen a man gasping for breath as though he was being strangled, when there was no earthly reason for it.

“I believe the boy has what Hippocrates called asthma. It’s a respiratory disease. Affects the lungs. I’ve seen it once before.”

“You have?” Jared asked. “And what happened?”

Doc Beaver put his fingers against the side of Jensen’s neck, feeling the thudding of his pulse, and avoiding Jared’s eye. “Well, Sire,” the doc eventually said. “To be honest, he died. But that was when I was a lad and no one knew what the hell it was. I’ve read all the books I’ve found on the matter now, and I believe young Ackles here will be just fine.”

“He’d better be,” Jared found himself growling much to his own and the doctors surprise. “I mean,” he quickly corrected himself under Doc Beaver’s narrowing gaze. “He’s under my protection; I wouldn’t want any harm to come to the boy. I know you’ll do your best for him.”

Doc Beaver was not a man you wanted to irritate. Not even Jared. He may be king, but Beaver had possession and knowledge of a lot of medicines. Some of which Jared occasionally needed. And some of which he didn’t want anywhere near him. It was definitely safer to keep in the prickly old coot’s good books.

In the end, Jensen managed to climb back to his feet aided only a little by Jared. While his pallor was still unhealthy—his lips still tinged blue and freckles stark against his cheeks—his chest had stopped heaving and his breathing was much more regular.

Jared would have liked to see him back to the old doc’s rooms, but Tim was the one steering Jensen away, arm around his shoulders while Jim Beaver marched ahead, barking at nosy onlookers to mind their own business and get out of the damn way. Jared had a million things he ought to be doing anyway. He didn’t have time to play nursemaid to anyone. Least of all a scrap of a boy who’d done nothing but cause drama and trouble since he’d arrived at the castle.

He couldn’t explain however, why he wanted to rip off the arm that Tim had wrapped protectively around Jensen’s shoulder. Couldn’t explain it and refused to think about it. One thing was for sure though, Ackles would not be joining the guards.

 

*#*#*

 

Jensen didn’t know whether to be relieved or just mortally embarrassed, by the time they made it to the doctor’s chamber. Mainly he was glad that the king was no longer there to witness how pathetically weak he was.

“Sit him down there.” The doctor barked at Captain Omundson who did as instructed, helping Jensen down onto a straight backed chair. It was far from the first time Jensen had suffered one of these attacks, but this one had scared him. Usually when his breathing became labored, Jensen stopped what he was doing straight away and sought somewhere cool and calm and away from everyone else to recover. It worked most often, eventually. Stopping, resting, hadn’t been an option today, not with the way the captain had been pushing him ever since sunrise. And not with what was at stake.

He’d blown any chance he had of joining the guards clear out of the water now.

Omundson watched as the doctor handed him a cup and instructed him to drink. Jensen lifted the cup to his face and sniffed, wrinkling his nose up at the strange scent. “Sweetened coffee,” the doctor said, in answer to Jensen’s questioning glance. “A hot caffeinated drink eases the lungs, trust me.”

Jensen hesitated, but after a glare from the doctor finally took a sip. It was...not horrible. The taste was strange on his tongue, close to bitter had it not been for the honey, but Jensen had tasted far worse medicine in his life.

“All right, Captain. I think I can handle it from here. I’m sure you have better thing to be doing.”

Captain Omundson jumped when the doctor’s attention snapped towards him and Jensen had to hide a smile

“Well,” the Captain blustered. “If you’re sure...I mean, of course I do.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow when the soldier still didn’t move. That pushed the Captain into action, except rather than leave he stepped towards Jensen, dropping onto one knee so as to be at a level with him. “Ackles...” Captain Omundson paused, searching for whatever words seemed to elude him. Jensen waited, puzzled. “I’m sorry. I treated you too harshly.”

“You treated me as the rest of your men.”

“But it was your first day; I should have been more lenient. I know better.”

Jensen shrugged. In honesty, the day had been no worse than he’d expected. “I’m sure you did no more than you were instructed.”

The captain stood up, his hand clasping down on Jensen’s shoulder. “That’s no excuse. And I will not make the same mistake twice. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jensen shook his head. “I think we both know that is not a good idea. I gave it my best try, but perhaps the king is correct; I’m not suited for life as a soldier.”

“Maybe given some time,” Omundson started to say. This time it was the doctor who set him straight.

“Captain, while I am the best healer there is, I am not a miracle worker. This boy will never be as fit as one of your soldiers needs to be.”

“Ah well,” Omundson squeezed Jensen’s shoulder one more time before backing away. “I guess that’s that then, lad. For what it’s worth, the king is a good man. He will be kind to you.”

“I’m sure he will,” Jensen replied, his smile as thin as his words.

“He will,” the captain repeated firmly. “I swear. And if...if not...well, you come find me.”

Jensen was left staring in confusion at the retreating back of Captain Omundson, quite unsure of what had just transpired.

“Right, lad.” Doctor Beaver clapped his hands. “Let’s see what can do about you. Devil’s snare, that’s what we need. And...ah...yes... a flagon of red wine.”

Jensen blinked. And wondered what he’d gotten himself into this time.

 

*#*#*

 

Apparently the working day as assistant to the king’s manservant started early. Before sun rise. Having lived on a farm for eighteen years, Jensen was more than used to early mornings. That did not mean he enjoyed them.

Rising before the sun apparently didn’t faze Matt. Which only made Jensen hate him a little more.

“Come on, Jenny, wakey wakey.” Matt grinned at him.

“My name is Jensen.” This was the fourth time Jensen had reminded Matt of this fact since he met the man the evening before. He didn’t know whether Matt was an imbecile or deliberately needling him. He suspected the latter. “And I am awake. Although I’m not sure why at this god forsaken time of day.”

“Because, sweetheart, the king is a busy man with a full day and it is my job, or now rather, _our_ job, to make life easier for him.”

Jensen bristled at the sweetheart but steadfastly ignored it and followed Matt silently down to the kitchens. Even they lacked the usual hustle and bustle at this time of day. Only two women stood, busy kneading dough, along with a kitchen boy chopping fruit.

“Now, the king will have breakfast later in the morning but he needs a strong cup of tea to wake him and I like to make him up a tray to sustain him until the cooks have made breakfast.”

Jensen watched as Matt brewed tea and loaded up a tray with various breads and berries as well as a plate of cold meats. “This is not breakfast?” he asked incredulously.

Matt looked at him as though he were an imbecile. “Of course not. This is barely a snack.”

Jensen looked down at the pile of food and back up to Matt without a word.

“Our king has a healthy appetite,” Matt shrugged, and then added with a wink, “for more than just food.”

Jensen paled. This was what he was afraid of. Matt rolled his eyes. “You need to loosen your britches, Jenny. The king won’t lay a hand on you. Not without permission.”

“But you...you sleep with him?”

“Oh no,” Matt smirked. “I can assure you that what we get up to in his bed is not sleeping.”

“And he will expect that of me?” It was a question, but Jensen was sure he knew the answer already. “For me to lie with him?”

“Expect it? No. Would he like it? I expect so; you are ridiculously pretty. But as I’ve said, he will not lay a hand on you without your permission. Your honor is safe. Although why you would want it to be, I have no idea. The king is a wonderful lover. His dick really is as big as—“

Jensen squeaked and slapped his hands over his ears. “I have no wish to hear about another man’s p…p...private parts.”

Matt almost bent in half laughing at him. “Lord, Jensen, anyone would think you’re a virgin.”

Matt stopped laughing when he saw the blood rush to Jensen’s cheeks. “You’re a virgin?”

Jensen bit his lip.

“But you’re eighteen.”

“So?”

“You lived on a farm for Godsakes. Isn’t that what all hardy farm boys do in the summer? Roll in the hay with comely country boys and girls?

“No,” Jensen snapped, unable to look Matt in the eye. “My parents were very...strict. And very...godly. I was not allowed to...to consort with, well, with anyone.”

“You’re serious? So, no kissing girls behind the barn? No tumbling with boys in the hayloft?”

Jensen shook his head; his ears were burning in humiliation.

“God,” Matt lost his cocky smirk. “Have you...have you even kissed anyone?”

“No,” Jensen snapped, suddenly entirely sick of the conversation.

“God,” Matt said again. “That’s so weird. I mean not weird, but, I can’t even imagine. What did you even do with your time? When I was your age, I’d slept with half my village. You haven’t ever _kissed_ anyone? I mean, do you even know _who_ you’d want to kiss? Like, do you like boys or girls, or both? Because me, well I’ve tried it all, but just now I like men. Older ones preferably. With big dicks. Sorry.” Matt held his hand up when Jensen made a strangled noise. “But really, Jensen, do you...do you even want to kiss someone? Have you _ever_ wanted to?”

“I’m not talking about this. Not with you,” Jensen hissed. “Can we please just...do whatever it is we are supposed to be doing?”

To his credit, Matt, looking suddenly contrite, didn’t argue. He dropped the subject and finished putting together the king’s not-breakfast. Handing the tray to Jensen to carry, he led the way to the king’s rooms. As they were climbing up the staircase, he even offered up an apology of sorts. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Jensen,” he said, serious for once. “I was surprised. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. Really there’s not. And you know if you need to talk, about this...or anything...you can talk to me.”

Jensen couldn’t speak, his throat closed up with fear and gratitude and also a huge amount of embarrassment, but he nodded, the tray trembling in his hands, and he thought—hoped—that Matt understood.

The king was not yet awake when Matt knocked on his bedroom door, and silently entered the room, Jensen following like a duckling at his heels.

Heavy darkness cloaked the room until Matt drew open the heavy drapes at each of the three narrow windows, allowing the pale glow of the rising sun to filter in. Jensen jumped when King Jared let out an unhappy groan, dragging the blankets over his head.

Now he could actually see, Jensen gaped at the size of the bed taking up most of the room. He’d never seen anything grander. It was wider than Jensen was tall, and high enough that Jensen thought falling from it would hurt considerably. A twisted dark wood post rose up at each corner of the bed, and the headboard was made of more dark wood and intricate wrought iron work. The pile of blankets and furs under which the king was cocooned looked plentiful enough to warm a small village.

“Good morning, Sire,” Matt said, voice light but not a whisper.

“It is the middle of the night.” The king’s return was muffled and unhappy. He was apparently as much a morning person as Jensen.

“Lay the tray down here, Jensen,” Matt said, indicating a table by the window. “Once the king deigns to rise, he’ll eat by the window.”

“Jensen?” The king suddenly sounded more awake.

Matt smirked. “Ah, I see how it is, Sire. You ignore my advances but peek your head out from under the bedclothes for the new pretty boy. Well, it does at least make my job slightly easier.”

Jensen willed down the blush in his cheeks as he set down the tray and moved to stand just behind Matt, unsure of what to do. Setting and lighting the fire was apparently the next job, a chore Jensen was very familiar with. At least there was a plentiful supply of firewood to make the job that much easier. Back home, trips to the woodshed were never much fun.

Although trips to the woodshed were not always to collect firewood.

“Now the king has food, tea, and warmth, he has no excuse not to drag himself out of bed,” Matt said pointedly in the king’s direction. Jensen wasn’t sure how he felt about the familiarity and ease with which Matt spoke to the king. Jensen did not dare speak that informally with his own parents. The king grunted from the bed in response but still did not make any effort to move.

“I’ll show you the king’s bathing room,” Matt said to Jensen, guiding Jensen to a door that opened to reveal a large washroom with a bath tub the size of which Jensen had never seen before. He didn’t relish the idea of filling it. He couldn’t imagine how many buckets of water it would take, or how long it would take to heat them.

“The king washes with cold water in the morning,” Matt explained. “In the evening he usually has a warm bath. Thankfully it’s not us who are responsible for taking care of that, we just have to make sure the water boys have done their job.” Matt continued to explain in more detail what was and was not his, now their, responsibility. It seemed that there were plenty of other people to take care of the heavier, more tedious, work. Walking the king’s dogs was not their job, although occasionally they were responsible for watching them if they were not accompanying the king or being tended to by his kennel master. Nor, to Jensen’s surprise was fetching water and firewood, cleaning, or laundry, part of their daily tasks.

“Really, we just need to make sure that the king has everything he requires, especially at the start and end of the day. We make sure the lamps and candles are lit and extinguished as necessary, set out the king’s clothes for him, help him dress if he requires it. And we make sure everyone else has done their jobs.”

“That doesn’t seem too strenuous,” Jensen noted.

“Certainly less strenuous than life as a guard,” Matt winked, and turned around leading Jensen back into the king’s bedroom. “Maybe you landed lucky after all.”

Jensen murmured noncommittally. Then he stopped short and stared. The king was just out of bed. He had only stumbled as far as the nearest window, arms raised high, mid-stretch. He wore a single garment, a pair of linen sleep pants, with no shirt at all despite the chill still lingering in the air. His bare feet were strangely delicate and pale against the walnut floor. His hair was wild and his eyes half closed against the light. The early morning sun bathed his skin in a water-color golden glow that danced across the thick corded muscles of his shoulders and chest and the sharp cut of his waist and hip bones. Jensen’s tongue stuck to roof of his mouth.

“Oh yeah,” Matt said, staring openly at the king. “The job definitely has its perks.”

 

 

 

Jared was exhausted after yet another long and tiresome day. All he wanted was food in his belly and to collapse into his bed. Unfortunately, Jeff was not finished with him yet.

“There are still pockets of Weatherly loyalists causing trouble,” Jeff said, dogging Jared’s steps as they climbed the staircase up to Jared’s rooms.

Jared sighed heavily. “Why is it they even still exist? I mean, the man did nothing but bring hardship to his people. The whole damn country suffered under him.

“Not quite the whole country. He had his followers. Men who were wealthy and powerful under him and no longer are. And honestly, some idiots just like to cause chaos.”

Jared knew Jeff was right. They’d discussed this subject enough times. But he was truly sick of how long it was taking to root out the troublemakers. “What do you suggest we do?” Jared asked. He was far too tired to come up with any wise ideas himself, if that was what Jeff was waiting for.

“I think intelligence rather than brute force is the answer. We need to find out who’s leading these fools, and cut the head off the problem.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jared nodded, relieved when the door to his chambers came into sight, a very bored guard leaning on the wall beside it. Bored until he saw Jared and Jeff approach anyway, and then he snapped to attention so sharply Jared was surprised he didn’t rupture something. He made a mental note to have a quiet word with the soldier later.

“I’ll leave it up to you,” Jared said to Jeff, hoping that was the end of their discussion for the night.

“Of course, Sire”

“Is that it?” Jared asked, when Jeff still failed to say good night. “Can I go now? Are we quite finished for the day? No more fires to put out? Figuratively or literally?”

“You didn’t have to put that fire out, y’know?” Jeff pointed out. “Chris was standing right there. He was—“

“Chris?” Jared scoffed, coming to a stop a few feet before he reached the guard. “It was his and Steve’s flaming arrow antics that started the fire in the first place. Morons. So, are we done? Can I eat now?”

“When have I ever stopped you from eating?” Jeff asked. “I know better than to come between you and food.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “So…”

“So what?” Jared asked, more sharply than he intended.

Jeff held his hands up. “Nothing. Nothing. I was just going to ask how things were going with your new manservant?”

“Jensen?” Jared asked, as if there was anyone else Jeff could possibly mean. “Fine. It’s going fine. He’s bright. Quick to pick things up.”

“Uh huh.” Jeff nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, ridiculously. “It’s been what...seven, eight weeks? And you haven’t...”

“Haven’t what?” Jared’s icy tone was deliberate this time.

Jeff didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just didn’t care. “You haven’t bedded him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Jared said, voice flat, hoping that would discourage more questions.

Jeff smirked, his brown eyes glinting with laughter. “Interesting. I think this long not succumbing to your seductive charms might be some kind of record.”

“I am not trying to seduce him,” Jared said, a tick forming in his jaw. “I have been somewhat busy. You may have noticed.”

And Jensen was, to put it mildly, skittish. He could still barely meet Jared’s eye.

Shyness was not usually a trait that Jared appreciated. He was confident by nature, and attracted towards others with a similar disposition. People that would stand up to him. Push him. Test him. His friends, his advisers, his lovers, none of them lacked confidence. And now suddenly there was this timid boy who crept around Jared like he might be about to eat him at any given moment, and instead of growing more irritated by the day, Jared found himself growing more curious. And for some reason, even a little protective. It was...disconcerting.

“No, of course you don’t wish to seduce the kid,” Jeff said, sarcasm dripping from his drawn-out words. “You didn’t press Ackles into the role because you wanted him in your bed at all.”

“Okay, fine. Yes, obviously I think he’s...pretty," Jared admitted, reluctantly. "I’d have to be blind not to. But I’m not going to force myself onto the boy. I’m not Weatherly!”

Jeff’s eyes lost their mocking glint, his expression sobering. “You are nothing like Weatherly, not in any manner, Jared. And you know I would flay any man who suggested it.”

“I know, Jeff, I'm sorry.” Jared said, scrubbing his hand across his jaw. “Just...it’s been a long week. And frustrating. I thought that once we got rid of Weatherly the hard work was done. But there just seems to be problem after problem. And so much petty ridiculousness to deal with.”

Jeff clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “You’re tired. It's understandable; the past few weeks, months, have been trying for us all. Tomorrow we have nothing important planned. Nothing that can’t be delayed. You should relax. Let Matt and Jensen dote on you.”

Jared chuckled wryly. “That would not be as relaxing as you seem to think, but I will gladly not see your grizzled old face for a day. Perhaps I could even steal my dogs back from the kennel master for a few hours; I’ve barely seen them lately.”

“And,” Jeff was unusually tentative about voicing his next suggestion, scratching his ear and not quite meeting Jared's eye. “If the attention of both Matt and Jensen is too much for you to deal with, you could always give Matt the day off. It’s been some time since he managed to break away from young Jensen’s side. I'm sure he could use a little downtime too.”

“Ah,” Jared grinned. “I see how it is. Jeff, you are ridiculously sweet on my attendant, aren’t you? Have you been missing him these past weeks?”

“What?” Jeff blustered. “I never said—“

Jared laughed, and slapped him on the arm. “Don’t worry old man, I’ll not tell a soul that underneath your gruff exterior hides the softest center.”

“As if you can talk,” Jeff scowled. “You’re the one who decreed in front of the whole court you’d cut off a kid’s balls, now it seems he has you by yours!”

“Hardly,” Jared scowled back, but in truth Jeff wasn’t far off the mark.

 

There was food waiting for Jared in his room, and a roaring fire, as well as a bathtub full of hot water, and two beautiful boys. One of whom his best friend, despite his protests to the contrary, had a crush on, and the other who blushed like a virgin if Jared as much as looked at him. It seemed as though Jared would have to find another bedmate soon. It was a sorry state of affairs, but not one that could be helped.

Jared cornered Matt when Jensen slipped out of the room with the finished dinner tray.

“Matt, tomorrow, have Jensen attend me himself.”

Matt narrowed his eyes. “Sire?”

“Take the day for yourself. Perhaps call in on Lord Morgan if you feel so inclined. I know he would very much appreciate the company. I’m sure by now Jensen is quite capable of attending to my needs without supervision. He’s an intelligent boy, and I’m not that hard to please. Am I?”

He was surprised when Matt didn’t tease him as he normally might. Instead he seemed unsure of how to respond, as though Jared were trying to trick him somehow. “While I more than appreciate the offer to spend time with Jeff...I mean, Lord Morgan, I don’t think Jensen has the requisite experience yet to meet all your needs.”

“Matt,” Jared frowned. “I’m simply trying to do you a kindness here, or I thought I was at least.”

“I appreciate that, Sire, I do,” Matt seemed sincere, his eyes not flickering away from Jared’s face. “But...if you are seeking entertainment for the day, if you plan on...on seducing Jensen to your bed—“

“Matt,” Jared growled, “don’t overstep your bounds.”

Matt squared his shoulders and carried on despite Jared’s warning. “I know you would never force Jensen into your bed, you are far too good a man for that, but Jensen...he is in awe of you, possibly even a little afraid. I worry he could easily be persuaded into something he is not ready for.”

“While I appreciate your candor, and your protectiveness of Jensen, he is eighteen, Matt. He's more than old enough to know his own mind. His own body. He’s not a child.”

“But he is a virgin,” Matt stated plainly, shocking Jared into silence. “One who has been sheltered from anything ungodly his entire life. He’s as naive in matters of sex as a child. The boy has never seen a naked man or woman before. He’s never even been kissed.”

Jared gaped. “You’re not serious?”

“Perfectly.”

“Not even a single kiss?”

Matt shook his head. “Not one. Not even a chaste one unless from his family. But having heard about them, I’d be surprised if they’d ever shown any affection towards him. His parents were god-fearing bigots who believed that sparing the rod spoiled the child. No, Jensen is as pure and untouched as a vestal virgin.”

Jared was rarely truly shocked, but it seemed the Ackles family had a knack for surprising him.

“Okay,” Jared nodded. “Okay, but this changes nothing. I may be a bastard, Matt, but I’m not an asshole. I will not pressure him into my bed. Take the day tomorrow; I swear to you, Jensen’s purity is safe with me.”

From the look on his face, it appeared that Matt wasn’t entirely convinced, but Jensen opening the chamber door brought their discussion to an end. When Jared dismissed them both for the night shortly afterwards, he reminded Matt once more to take the day off. Jensen’s nervous expression, when it hit him that this meant he would be serving Jared alone, was undeniably obvious.

Jared swore to himself then that he would not touch the boy. Would not even hint how much he would like to. If Jensen wanted to remain pure, untouched, for whatever reason, then Jared was quite capable of keeping his hands to himself. No matter how tempting young Jensen Ackles was.

Still when he went to bed that night, he could not keep at bay the dreams of green eyes, and petal soft lips. Of raindrop freckles against porcelain skin. Of a ripe peach ass and legs that bowed as though they were designed to wrap around a man’s hips. Jared’s dreams were sweet indeed. It was almost a shame that he had to wake up.

And it was unfortunate indeed that he woke up with his bedclothes kicked clear off the bed, a raging erection and Jensen staring down at him, mouth dropped open and eyes bigger than moons.

“Ah...ah...good morning, King Jared, I...Ah...it’s late. Later than normal that is. Matt said to let you sleep a while longer, and I did, and then I lit your fire and I...prepared your tray and I...but...but no, I should have—“

“Jensen,” Jared groaned, hands scrabbling for a corner of a blanket or a fur, something, anything he could use to hide his very obvious problem. A couple of weeks ago, if Matt had been the one to rouse him, he likely would have offered to help Jared out. Matt was not a man to let a hard dick go to waste. Now, though, Jared wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed, him or Jensen.

Jensen certainly appeared mesmerized, having difficulty tearing his eyes away from the tent in Jared’s sleep pants. Jensen may have been an innocent, but that apparently didn’t mean he wasn’t curious.

“Jensen, could you please—“ Jared made a grabbing hand towards the sheets kicked down towards the bottom of the bed. Jensen didn’t move for a full minute, his eyes glued to Jared’s crotch. When he did finally snap back to himself and untangle the sheets from the bottom of the bed, tugging them up towards Jared, it was with a red face and a lick of his lips that didn’t improve Jared’s situation at all.

“I could...I could...ah...help you out with that...if you...want?”

Jared almost snapped his neck looking up at Jensen, positive he must have heard wrong. “What?”

Jensen couldn’t meet his eye. “I...ah...that’s what Matt would do...right? He...you...you and he fornicate.”

Fornicate. Lord. Jared wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood up. Jensen stepped backwards, his gaze now focused on Jared’s sweaty chest. Jared wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not.

“That’s why you...you wanted me to attend you...isn’t it? So I could—“ Jensen trailed off, instead nodding towards Jared’s crotch, either lost in his train of thought or without the vocabulary to continue.

“No,” Jared snapped. God forgive him, he wasn’t equipped to deal with this so early in the day. And he really wanted to do something about his erection which hadn’t drooped at all, apparently enjoying the attention Jensen was focusing towards it, or maybe it was the way Jensen’s tongue kept slipping in and out of his mouth, licking around his lips, catching between his teeth.

Jared took a deep breath. “No, Jensen. Thank you. But I don’t require that from you. Matt and I, well, everything Matt and I do is consensual. Matt enjoys fooling around with me. Or he did anyway. I don’t expect you to do anything like that.”

Jensen’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. Jared’s dick didn’t hate that either. Jared stepped towards his washrooms, the need for privacy suddenly urgent.

“But...” Jensen said, hesitating to chew on the pout of his bottom lip, surely just to torment Jared. “Isn’t that why you sent Matt to Lord Morgan today so we could…”

“No!” Jared barked. “No, Jensen. You...you are an innocent. I would not lay a hand on you.”

Jensen tilted his head. “Not even if I wanted you to?”

Jared wondered what he had done for God to punish him with the temptation of Jensen Ackles. “Do...do you want me to? To touch you?” Jared’s words came out as a frog-like croak.

Jensen bit his lip, the question hanging in the air between them like a taut thread, ready to snap. When he replied, it was with the whisper of a child sharing a secret. “I...think I would like that.”

Despite all the battles that Jared had fought in his time, the trials and struggles he had endured, he swore that this was the biggest test to his honor, and his strength of character, he had ever faced.

“When you decide for sure, Jensen, and when you can look me in the eye and ask for what you want, then we might discuss the matter again,” Jared said, proud of the way his voice barely quivered this time.

Jensen dropped his gaze to the floor, the tips of his ears burning so bright, Jared could almost feel the heat. He felt sorry for embarrassing the boy, but it was much kinder than accepting Jensen’s words at face value. Sheet wrapped around his waist, Jared walked past Jensen, and into his washroom. It was hardly his most dignified exit, not with the way his cock was standing to attention, but at least he had left the boy untouched and could finally deal with his problem in private.

 

*#*#*

 

Jensen was a virgin, it was true. He had confessed this much to Matt early on. But that did not mean he wanted to remain a virgin forever. He had only been out of his parents hold for a handful of weeks now, but in that time he had already learned much. And not all from Matt. Although he had taught Jensen everything he needed to know about how to care for the king.

Well, not quite everything. He still wasn’t comfortable sharing with Jensen all the ways he pleased the king. Although he knew Matt also took great pleasure from the time he spent in the king’s bed. And Jensen could understand why. The king was the most handsome man Jensen had ever set eyes upon.

For some reason though, Matt and the king had not had relations of any sort lately. Not that Jensen knew of anyway. Although Matt had spent several nights with Lord Morgan recently, slipping in and out of his room while most of the castle slept. Chris and Steve had taken to teasing Matt about it whenever their paths crossed.

Chris and Steve. Jensen actually had no idea how the two guards had ever managed to scare him so badly. As friends of the king, loyal to him since they were all not much more than children, Chris and Steve spent much of their time in the castle, ensuring the king’s security and keeping watch on his family. When they weren’t causing trouble. Their escapades, drunken more often than not, were as legendary as their love for the king. But in the weeks since Jensen had been here, the two men had made sure he was settled in and happy. They’d treated him with a kindness he’d rarely known along with a generous amount of gentle teasing that made Jensen feel accepted rather than picked on.

Life inside the castle was vastly different from what Jensen had expected. While he worked long days, often rising way before the sun and not collapsing into his bed until late into the night, he was not overworked. He had a lot of free hours during the day, and once Matt no longer felt the need to babysit him constantly, had found several ways to keep himself occupied.

And while the king still made him ridiculously nervous, Jensen had lost the fear he had for the man. Truthfully, his first impression of the king had not been glowing, but during the weeks he had known him, King Jared had demonstrated far more kindness and compassion than anger or frustration. Even when Jensen accidentally dropped his wine goblet one night, King Jared reacted with laughter rather than violence. And on the rare occasion the king did lose his temper, his rage burned bright and hot, then was over in a flash. The day that Harley and Sadie somehow managed to get their paws on a turkey carcass and were sick to their stomachs, Jared was the wildest Jensen had yet witnessed him become. And that, Jensen realized quickly, was more out of worry than anger.

Danneel, who had rather taken Jensen under her wing, swore that despite Jared’s impressive stature and skill with a sword, he was, deep down, a sweet-natured man, if a little impulsive. He was weighed down by the mantle of king which, according to Danneel, was not at title he desperately desired.

For as much as Jensen had learned about the king in the past few weeks, he had discovered just as much about himself, and about how wrong his parents had been about _everything_. He’d always known they were strict and controlling, their views narrow and often unkind, but since he’d had the chance to talk to so many other people, to actually make a few friends, he’d discovered just how limited his view of the world had been. Danneel had even loaned him books the like of which he’d never seen. Some of those had been eye-opening in more ways than one, and decidedly titillating. Jensen wasn’t sure if Danneel had meant to slip him those books or not.

And now, although his social skills were sorely lacking and his shyness a hurdle he had yet to conquer, Jensen had decided there were things he would like to try. In hindsight, he should have aimed slightly lower than attempting to fornicate with the king on his first foray into exploring his sexual yearnings, but in his defense, he had thought that was what the king had in mind when he requested Jensen tend to him alone. The king had certainly seemed up for some fun if the impressive erection in his sleep pants had been any indication.

But then he’d turned Jensen down flat. Jensen did not know what to make of that. And as much as he wanted to run back to his room and die of shame, he still had a job to do.

Jensen looked out the king’s clothes for the day ahead, Matt had already instructed him on what to pick; the soft leather pants the king liked along with a silk blouse and warm tunic. Casual clothes for a rare quiet day.

The king spent a long time in his washroom, far longer than usual. Although to be fair, the king’s mornings were usually far more hectic. Jensen wasn’t sure what to do. The king hadn’t dismissed him, but there was little left for him to do. Unless King Jared wanted Jensen to help him dress. He hadn’t required assistance with dressing so far, but Jensen didn’t want to assume.

Jensen dithered and flit nervously about the room, straightened the bedclothes and poked needlessly at the fire. He almost jumped out of his skin when the washroom door finally opened and the king appeared, his bed sheet left behind, along with the tension in his shoulders and the not-so-small problem he’d woken with. Water dripped down the man’s neck, the ends of his hair wet as though he’d washed his face too vigorously. Jensen could barely take his eyes away from the droplets as they slowly crawled down the king’s collar bone and took rest upon his chest.

“Lord above, Jensen, are you trying to kill me?”

Jensen startled at the king’s voice.

“Will you put your tongue away. I may be king, but I’m only human.

Jensen didn’t think his tongue was anywhere but in his mouth, but shame faced, he realized he had been licking his lips whilst staring at the king’s body. “I’m sorry, Sire. Would you...would you like me to fetch a towel for you, you have a drop of water I could—“

“No! No it’s fine.” The king waved him off. “The fire will soon dry me.”

Jensen stood silently as the king, still half-naked, helped himself to tea and fruit from the tray Jensen had brought in. Usually Matt chatted away to the king, telling him gossip and stories from the day before. He could make the king laugh even on the dreariest morning. Without him there was a tension in the room that made Jensen’s stomach flutter, while King Jared stayed unusually quiet.

“So,” the king was the first one to break the silence. “How are you finding life in the castle?”

He was clearly ignoring the weird tension and Jensen’s clumsy advances from earlier. Okay, Jensen could pretend just as easily.

“I’m very much enjoying it, Sire.”

The king took another drink from his cup before picking up a muffin and examining it. “You are making friends?”

“Indeed,” Jensen nodded. “Matt has introduced me to many people. And Chris and Steve are always pleasant company. Danneel has also been kind enough to spend some time with me. In fact, most people have been very kind.”

“Most?” Jared asked, his eyebrow raised.

Why did Jensen say that? Really, the people that made snide comments to him were easily avoided. His weakness during his failed attempt to train with the king’s guards, as well as the king’s threat to emasculate him, had painted a bright target on his back for bullies. But Jensen had dealt with more than cruel words and threats in his time. And he was far tougher than most people gave him credit for. A weak chest and a timid tongue did not necessarily equate to a weak spirit.

“I have experienced more kindness in the past few weeks in this castle than I have in years with my parents,” Jensen said, truthfully.

The king’s eyebrow rose further. “Your parents were unkind?”

Jensen sighed. That was not the point he’d been attempting to make. “They were...” Jensen tried to think of a polite way to describe them. “They had firm beliefs. I’m sure they meant well.”

That was the best that Jensen could come up with on the spot. The king harrumphed but made no further comment on the matter, tucking into the muffin instead. Jensen watched raptly.

“I have no plans for the day,” the king said, brushing a few errant crumbs from his mouth. “It has been a few weeks since I found myself in such a situation. I think I will spend some time with Harley and Sadie; I have missed their company lately. You will find some way to entertain yourself, I’m sure?”

“Perhaps I could find some way to entertain you instead, Sire?” Jensen found himself saying despite the king’s earlier rejection, his eyes focused on a stray crumb that clung obstinately to the king’s bottom lip. The king made a strangled noise in reply.

“I mean, if you would like my company?” Jensen said, not sure where his bravery was coming from but unable to stop himself. He only knew that the king looked glorious in the pale light of day, from his bare feet buried in the fur rug in front of the fireplace to his sleep-tousled hair. “I am at your service after all.”

“Jensen,” the king sighed. “You do not have to serve me in any way that is inappropriate. I do not expect my manservants to whore for me. There are plenty of people happy to keep my bed warm without forcing them.”

“Matt—“ Jensen started to say.

“Matt enjoyed my company. He most certainly enjoyed my dick. You are not Matt. Matt was far from a virgin when he first slipped into my bed.”

Jensen felt his stupidly pale complexion color. “So, you do not sleep with virgins?”

The king’s hands clasped into fists at his side and for a moment Jensen thought he had angered him. “Jensen—“ The king took a deep breath, his chest heaving in a way that made Jensen’s belly squirm. “Jensen, you are young and inexperienced. Your first time should be with someone you...someone you at least like.”

“I like you,” Jensen said simply.

“I threatened to cut off your balls!”

“But you didn’t follow through.”

The king tugged at his hair. “God, Jensen, why are you making this so hard?”

Jensen looked down at his feet, suddenly shamed by his own forwardness. He’d become too familiar with the king over the past few weeks. Too used to seeing him as a man, a very attractive man, and not as his king. Jensen was a servant. He should not be pressing the king to...to touch him. “I apologize, Sire. My rudeness was unforgivable. Is there anything else I can do for you now? Do you require my help dressing?

“No, no,” the king waved him off. “I can dress myself.”

“Very well, Sire. If it’s allowed, I shall retire and make sure the kitchen is preparing your breakfast.”

“Of course, Jensen.”

The king sounded relieved to finally be rid of him, and Jensen vowed to himself not to bother him with his clumsy advances again.

Although, he mused as he made his way through the winding hallways, if the king’s only objection was that Jensen was a virgin perhaps there was something he could do about that.

 

 

 

A day with no responsibilities had done Jared no good whatsoever. Instead of feeling refreshed, he’d started the next day wound tighter than a coiled spring. And suffering from a wet dream the like of which he’d not had since he was a boy.

Jensen had tried hard to stay out of his way the entire previous day, and yet Jared had found himself thinking of nothing but his damnable green eyes. And those pouting pink lips. And, Lord, his impossibly perfect ass. He wasn’t sure when simply wanting to romp with a pretty boy had turned into yearning to touch him every moment of the day. He couldn’t help but wonder if his growing infatuation with the young man was purely because he’d decided that Jensen was out of bounds.

It hadn’t helped that after a day spent with Matt, Jeff was in a wonderful mood. Jared even caught him singing.

“Ah, King Jared, is it not a beautiful afternoon?”

“It’s raining,” Jared pointed out, sourly. “Let us get back inside.

“Pfft,” Jeff dismissed his complaints with a breezy hand wave. “It’s barely a drizzle. We’re lucky not to be under a foot of snow by this time of year. Come on, you wanted to ride out today; you’ve not been atop your own horse in weeks.”

“So another day won’t hurt.”

Jeff ignored his comment, whistling tunelessly and pretending he hadn’t heard Jared grouch. Jared kicked a stone from the path, and watched it roll in amongst the dead roses in the flower beds. He wondered what Jensen was doing now. Probably curled up somewhere inside warm and dry and comfortable. Perhaps even thinking about Jared as he enjoyed some time to himself.

“Sire? Jared?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jared said, belatedly, barely noticing that Jeff had spoken.

Jeff looked at him curiously. “You really don't seem yourself today. Is there something bothering you? Did something happen yesterday?”

“No,” Jared grumped, like a child. “Nothing happened.”

“So, you and Jensen didn’t?” Jeff waggled his eyebrows.

Jared kicked a larger stone. It kind of hurt. “There is no me and Jensen.”

“Ahhh...he spurned your advantages. That would explain the foul mood.”

“I am not in a foul mood.”

Jeff’s eyebrow did a different wiggle. Jared felt like kicking something bigger. Jeff, for example.

“Jensen did not spurn my advances. I made no advances. I am not a monster to take advantage of a...a...child.”

“He’s a man of eighteen.” Jeff pointed out. "As you've told me more than once."

“He’s...oh...shut up.” Jared didn’t want to argue. He’d been arguing with himself for long enough. Thankfully, the stables had just come into sight. It would be a relief to escape the persistent miserable rain and the conversation.

“Hold on,” Jeff said, as they passed a hay barn. His left arm snapped out to hold Jared back while his right hand reached for his sword. “I think I heard something.”

If it was anyone else, Jared would have dismissed the worry out of hand; hay barns were favorite hiding places of young lovers as well as playful children, but Jeff’s sharp instincts and caution had kept Jared alive up until now. He wasn’t going to second-guess him. He followed close on Jeff’s shoulder, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“This isn’t something of which King Jared would approve.”

Jared heard the words, barely, but was too far away to recognize the voice. Those faint words alone, however, were enough to arouse his suspicions. Someone with a softer voice, a woman perhaps, must have responded but Jared couldn’t hear more than a murmur. Along with Jeff, he edged closer.

“That does not sound like the king. I think you must be mistaken.” Jared couldn’t be sure yet, but he now thought the voice belonged to his captain of the guards, Tim Omundson. His friend. Jared’s hand tightened on the handle of his sword. “I do not think that is true.” Tim said. Jared could hear a tremor in his voice. If someone was trying to coerce his captain, blackmail him perhaps into betraying Jared, they were about to get a nasty surprise.

“As much as I would like to help you, and believe me I would, the king would have my balls.”

“Please.” The voice was audible now, and Jared felt a prickle of familiarity. But one word was not enough to be sure. Hidden behind the doorway, Jared grabbed Jeff’s elbow holding him back for a moment. “The king doesn’t care. I promise you. And he has no say in this. It’s my decision to make.”

A vein in Jared’s temple began to pulse.

“I know I am young and inexperienced, but I’ll do whatever you say. Please, Captain Omundson, I know I failed you once before, but surely this kind of exertion will only help improve my stamina.”

“Hmm, I suppose I could teach you a few things,” Omundson conceded. “I can’t see how it would hurt. You do seem keen to learn, and I wouldn’t like anyone else to teach you poorly. I suspect you could be quite magnificent with an experienced instructor. And certainly stamina isn’t everything. Not at your age. Flexibility and enthusiasm are much more important. You’re sure the king won’t mind?”

“No, no, I swear. He doesn’t care what I do. Oh, please, Captain Omundson, I promise I’ll do everything you say. I can be such a good student for you. I’ll get down on my knees, right now, beg—“

Jared had heard enough of Jensen’s begging. And there was no way the boy was dropping down to his knees for anyone. Anyone who wasn’t Jared. Jeff at his side, he burst through the doorway, hand not on his sword but curled into a fist he was ready to use. “What the hell is going?”

The surprise on Omundson’s face would have been comical if anger wasn’t obscuring Jared’s vision.

Jensen, who’d been facing away from the doorway, whipped around, his face paling at first sight of Jared, and then just as quickly, flushing.

“Sire,” Jensen said, amazingly cool for someone who two seconds previously had been propositioning the king’s captain of the guards. “Was there something I could help you with?”

“My apologies,” Omundson replied, much less calmly than Jensen. “I was just—“

“Just what?” Jared roared. “Just away to teach Jensen here all you know? Just away to let him get down on his knees for you?”

“I’m sorry, Sire,” Jensen said, without a hint of apology in his voice. “Am I not allowed to kneel for anyone but you?”

“You...you...” Jared fought for control over his temper. He turned instead to Omundson.

“He...he is a boy...and you were about to—“

“To teach me how to handle a weapon,” Jensen finished.

"Exactly," Jared raged. “How to handle _a weapon_.”

“Sire,” Jeff tried to intercede. Jared ignored him in favor of shouting some more.

“The boy is an...innocent. He should not be handling any man’s weapon but...”

“Actually, I was trying to persuade Captain Omundson to show me how to use my own weapon. Danneel said it would be wise to learn how to properly handle my own smaller one first before I attempted anything quite so magnificent as Captain Omundson’s.”

“Danneel?” Jared squeaked, his voice suddenly breaking like a thirteen year old boy’s.

“You...you...let Danneel see your...your _weapon_?”

“King Jared, if you would let me explain, Sire.” Omundson attempted to interrupt.

Jeff shushed him. “No, no, Omundson, let Jensen explain for himself. This is highly entertaining.”

Jared glared at him. “You think this is funny?”

“I told you Danneel was my friend,” Jensen pointed out. “I went to her first for advice. She was most helpful and very patient considering my complete lack of knowledge. She explained the basics and gave me a toy to practice with, one of her old smaller ones, but she said that Omundson was a more experienced teacher when I wanted to move onto the real thing.”

Jeff chuckled. Jared’s hand dropped back to the hilt of his sword.

“So you came here to get down on your knees for Captain Omundson?”

“I was prepared to do whatever I had to.”

“I was not going to let the boy—," Omundson was again cut off by Jeff. “Timothy, this is too good, let them go on.”

The last tenuous thread of Jared’s temper snapped. “This is not funny! The boy is a virgin. I...I restrained myself from even touching him because Matt told me he was as innocent as a child. And here he is begging this...this asshole...to—“

“Teach me how to brandish a sword.” Jensen finished for him. “Well, just a dagger actually, and a wooden one at that. Danneel wouldn’t give me anything else until I was more proficient. She was planning on teaching me how to use it herself, but she has been somewhat occupied lately and so suggested I ask Captain Omundson for some lessons.”

“A sword?” Jared repeated.

Jensen smirked and produced a small wooden pig-poker from his belt. “Yes, a sword. Why...what on earth did you think we were talking about, Sire?”

Jared blinked, and played back the whole conversation in his head. They’d been talking about actual weapons, not euphemistic weapons. Well, that...that was a little embarrassing. “But you..." he started to say before finding himself lost for words in the face of Jensen's impudent smile. Instead, he turned to Omundson. “You said I wouldn’t approve.”

Omundson looked confused. “Well, no, Sire. You did not want the boy to train as a soldier. Especially after his breathing difficulties. I presumed as he was your...your attendant, you wanted him sheltered from the dangers of rough sword play.”

“Ah,” Jared said. “That...that makes sense.”

Omundson seemed to disagree, mumbling, “I really don’t think any of this makes sense.”

"Why, Sire, what else did you think I would be begging Captain Omundson for?” Jared did not think Jensen was capable of such impish behavior, but there was no doubt he was deliberately baiting Jared now.

“I...ah...” Jared wasn’t normally one to flounder, but since Jensen had fallen into his lap, he seemed to be finding himself constantly wrong-footed. It was getting tiresome. He was the king, goddamnit.

“Captain,” he snapped, gratified when Omundson jumped. “I apologize for my manservant’s poor behavior distracting you from your duties. You have my word he won’t bother you again.”

Omundson took that as the dismissal it was and seemed nothing but relieved to bow his head in acknowledgment and escape, leaving them to it.

Jensen was no less feisty without Omundson there. “Sire, my apologies if seeking the captain’s assistance was inappropriate, but with all due respect, you made it clear you did not wish my company. And I thought learning to wield a sword, or even a dagger, would be a useful way to spend my time.”

“That is all you wished Omundson to teach you?” Jared asked.

Jensen’s nostrils flared. “Yes. For now. Although he is very handsome. And patient. And he was very kind to me when I was taken unwell. I think if I was seeking someone to introduce me to the pleasures I’ve been denied until now, he would be a skillful and generous teacher.”

Jeff let out a surprised exclamation which Jared ignored, in favor of advancing on Jensen. He was inordinately pleased when the boy didn’t flinch or cower; instead straightening his spine and looking up at Jared with fire sparking in his green eyes.

“You will not seek Omundson’s company again. Do you understand me?” Jared growled, stabbing his finger at Jensen in such a rude way his mother would be horrified.

“Fine,” Jensen spat back. “What about Danneel, Chris, Steve? Am I allowed to seek companionship anywhere, or should I spend all my time alone in my room? Maybe you would like to lock me in the tower and be done with it?”

“Do not tempt me,” Jared snarled. Lord, he didn’t know whether he wanted to throttle the impudent boy or shove him against the wall and kiss him until he shut up.

Jensen smirked, all signs of sweet innocence gone. “Tempting you is apparently something I am incapable of.”

The boy had a smart mouth. Jared was done trying to resist it. He took one step closer, backing Jensen against the wall, lowering his voice and calming his breathing, ensuring his words came out unaffected. “Jeff,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Jensen, “unless Matt has any objections, he’s now your valet, or whatever else you wish for him to be.”

Then Jared dipped his head and let his words fall softly in Jensen’s ear. “If you are bored enough that you seek company with so many others, perhaps I should extend your duties. I believe you’ve learned quite enough from Matt. If you need instruction on anything... _anything_ , Jensen, you come to me. And only me.”

Jensen blinked up at him, his pupils obscuring almost all the green that was usually so startling in his eyes. Jared bent forward, dipped his head low, allowed his mouth to almost touch Jensen’s, so close he could feel Jensen’s shallow breath on his lips. Jensen’s eyes fluttered closed. Jared stared down, mesmerized by long dark lashes against pale skin, boyish freckles against sharp cheek bones. The barest brush of lips, so light Jensen would never know if it was real or not, and then Jared withdrew.

Heavy cloak billowing behind him, he spun away and stormed from the barn before either Jeff or Jensen had the opportunity to object.

 

*#*#*

 

Jensen was not entirely sure what had just happened. His heart was doing strange things in his chest, and his lips were tingling like the aftermath of a summer lightning storm. He looked at Lord Morgan. Lord Morgan looked back, bemused. “I hope you know what you’re doing, boy.”

“Not altogether,” Jensen admitted. “I...I may have gotten slightly carried away.”

Lord Morgan laughed kindly. “You and the king both, I think.”

“He…King Jared…he confuses me greatly.” Jensen said, his fingers tracing across his lips. He thought maybe, maybe, he had imagined the king’s mouth brushing against his own. It was the logical explanation. His mind playing cruel tricks on him. “I know he wanted to train me as his manservant to serve all his needs, as Matt does, but when I offered to...to...lie with him, he turned me down. And now...now this...it...I don’t know what to think!”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Jeff returned gently. “He doesn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you.”

“But I _offered_ ,” Jensen stressed. “I know I’m young, and not experienced, but I’m not dumb.”

Jeff shook his head. “No one thinks you’re dumb, kid.”

Jensen scowled. “They think I’m weak then. A fragile soul to be protected. I would have been as well in his harem, sheltering with the women if that is the case. The king would have been as well to cut off my balls.”

“I would not let the king’s mother, or Danneel, or any of the other women in the harem hear you say that,” Jeff said sternly. “You think they’re fragile?”

Jensen ducked his head in shame. “No, no. You’re right. They are all strong, fearless women. I do them a disservice. Indeed, Danneel has taught me much already about how to defend myself. As well as...about the...well, that basic mechanics of...” Jensen trailed off. Lord above but his tongue was shy. He still couldn’t spit out the S word at all. He was indeed a blushing virgin.

“Well, I wouldn’t tell King Jared that, perhaps,” Lord Morgan mused. “Not at the moment anyway. You know, if you wanted lessons on self-defense or swordsmanship, or in any other subject you believe you may be lacking, you only had to ask the king. I’m sure he would have arranged lessons for you. He is a good man. A fair man.”

Jensen huffed. “He is a frustrating man. He makes me say and do things that I would never normally do. I don’t know what happens to me when I am around him. I don’t understand.”

“I think that is a problem the two of you share,” Jeff noted.

Jensen doubted that very much. “Look, kid,” Jeff continued. “Be honest, what do you want? To be a soldier? To be a free man? To have fun with a pretty girl? A pretty boy? More? To fuck someone? To find out how it feels to be fucked?”

Jensen felt the blood rush to his face, knew his cheeks were scarlet. Despite his curiosity, he still wasn’t used to such forwardness.

“I...I...” Jensen’s tongue was thick in his mouth. A dozen different thoughts battling in his head. He wanted it all. He wanted to be kissed. He wanted to find out how it felt to be touched by another’s hand. He wanted not to feel useless. He wanted...he wanted...

Lord Morgan waited patiently for an answer.

“I want to be the king’s.”

Morgan grinned and clapped his hands jovially. “Good, now let us set about making that happen.”

Jensen followed Lord Morgan back to the castle, not entirely sure what the man meant by that. And not entirely sure he wanted to know.

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent receiving last minute instruction from Matt about how to complete all his duties. Matt hadn’t been particularly upset to lose his position in the king’s service, instead more than happy to have more time to spend with Lord Morgan. It seemed the pair of them had developed something of a bond. One that meant Matt had lost the desire to sleep with anyone else. A state of affairs that was apparently quite novel.

“It’s not that the king is lacking anything in bed,” Matt had confessed to Jensen. “But Lord Morgan...well, it’s different.”

“It’s because they love one another,” Queen Genevieve was the one to explain it to Jensen. She and Danneel had come visiting in the evening, unaware that king was currently off somewhere sulking. That was also something the queen had said. Jensen would never have dared. “He’ll be off somewhere with his dogs.” She’d said. “They don’t talk back to him. He finds it restful.”

Jensen was in awe of Queen Genevieve. For her small stature, smaller and slighter even than Jensen, she took no nonsense and cared not at all what others thought of her. Sitting on the floor in front of the crackling fire, her back resting on Danneel’s legs, she stole yet another pie from the plate Jensen had actually made up for the king. By the time King Jared eventually showed up, Jensen was sure there would be nothing left, thanks to the queen’s surprising appetite.

“You...you and the king, you don’t love one another? In that way?” Despite Matt assuring Jensen that the king and queen’s relationship was not that of husband and wife, he still wasn’t sure how that worked. Especially considering the Queen was obviously pregnant.

“Good Lord, no.” The queen laughed. “Although we are very fond of one another. I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him and have his child otherwise.

“I see,” Jensen said. Although he really didn’t.

Danneel took pity on him. “It’s a marriage of convenience, Jensen. Jared needed a Queen and an heir. Genevieve needed an escape from her family and a chance to be with the love of her life.”

“The love of her life?” Jensen queried, still confused.

“Me, you idiot,” Danneel laughed, bending down from where she was sitting and kissing the top of Genevieve’s head.

“Oh,” Jensen said, suddenly flustered. “Oh, you are... _together_?”

Both woman rolled their eyes and shook their heads. “You really are quite oblivious, Jensen.”

“I know,” Jensen slapped his hand over his face. “I know. But I grew up on a farm with parents that barely let me go anywhere but church. I understand animals. And crops. And hard work and...discipline. I don’t understand people or politics...or...or love."

“Well,” Danneel said kindly, after an awkward moment of silence. “You have plenty of time to learn.”

“If the king doesn’t kill me first,” Jensen mumbled.

The queen's filthy laugh was most unregal. “Trust me, young Jensen, the king does not want to kill you. Fuck you...yes. Kill you...no.”

An hour after the queen and Danneel retired for the evening—leaving the king’s dinner plate empty as Jensen predicted—the king had still not appeared. Jensen was sure he should not be worried; the king was a formidable man more than capable of taking care of himself. Most likely, he was in the kitchens, having missed his evening meal. Still, a small strand of worry twisted into an uneasy knot in Jensen’s belly.

He decided that visiting the kitchens to fetch some more food, for when the king did decide to reappear, was a reasonable plan. And if that meant finding the king and putting his mind at rest, then so much the better.

Chris, the only guard standing outside the king’s chambers, looked bored rather than worried when Jensen ventured into the hallway. “The king is late tonight,” Chris noted. “Lord Morgan must be keeping him busy.”

“I thought Matt would be keeping Lord Morgan busy tonight,” Jensen said. “I’m going to fetch the king a tray in case he’s hungry when he finally appears.”

“Queen Genevieve does have a healthy appetite at the moment, doesn’t she?” Chris laughed, knowingly. “Okay, should His Highness appear, I’ll let him know you won’t be long.”

“Thanks, Chris,” Jensen said, already a little less worried seeing Chris so relaxed.

He wasn’t even that concerned when he got to the kitchens and the king wasn’t there. He was a busy man. As Chris said, Lord Morgan had probably needed him to resolve yet another minor issue before he retired for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time the king had worked past midnight. Of course his other theory was that the king was still so angry with Jensen, he’d decided to sleep elsewhere so as to avoid him longer. Jensen hoped that wasn’t the case.

Without Matt to accompany him, Jensen’s nerves grew as he walked back through the lamp lit hallways to the king’s chambers. While he had become accustomed to the castle’s maze like corridors, at night, when the daily bustle had died down, and not so many of the oil lamps were burning, the atmosphere turned rather eerie.

Jensen jumped at every shadow that moved, very nearly dropping his laden tray more than once. He almost screamed when one of the harem’s guards appeared from nowhere. Even in the low light, he could sense her laughing at him. He told himself to steel his nerve, picked his head up and walked, smartly, back to the king’s chamber.

He didn’t notice the next time a shadow moved that shouldn’t have. And he didn’t have time to do much more than gasp when the sharp tip of a poisoned dart pierced his neck. He barely heard the crash as his tray hit the ground. And he was unconscious when he followed suit.

 

 

 

 

“How long ago did Jensen leave?”

“Not that long, Sire.”

"And you just let him go on his own?”

“I can’t leave your room unguarded, Sire. Jensen knows the castle well enough now. He won’t get lost. Or if he does he’ll find his way back soon enough.”

Jared paced. He’d arrived back at his chambers hoping to find a roaring fire, food, wine and Jensen. Instead he’d found only an empty room. At least the fire was still going. Perhaps Jensen hadn’t been gone that long. On the other hand, perhaps he’d run off. No, no, that was ridiculous. If he wanted to run off, he surely wouldn’t have waited until this time of night to do it. Not when he’d had all day. Although, maybe he would wait until the castle was emptier, and the guards half asleep.

Chris watched from just inside the door as Jared paced, and slowly his demeanor changed; his relaxed stance stiffened until he was almost standing at attention.

“He was just going to fetch you food.” This time Chris sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Jared.

Jared paced his room six more times before he couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m going to look for him.

“Let me come with you,” Chris said, immediately.

“No,” Jared grabbed his sword, and his cloak. “Go, find Steve and Tim. Maybe a couple others. If he’s lost or...or he’s run...he could be anywhere. We’ll need help.”

Chris grabbed his wrist as Jared made for the door, and this time it was his friend Chris talking, not his guard. “He wouldn’t run, Jared. I swear to you.”

Jared nodded, once, sharp, before striding out of the door. He didn’t believe Chris. Not when Jared had kissed Jensen, almost, earlier in the day. Perhaps the boy’s nerve had failed. Perhaps he’d never wanted Jared in the first place. Perhaps—

“Ahh, King Jared, fancy seeing you here at this time of night. Looking for something or should I say, _someone_?”

Jared stopped cold. A figure stepped out from the shadows.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance?”

“Jessica?”

“Sire?” Jessica Alba. Weatherly’s mistress. One of them anyway. Rumor had it, she’d participated in more than one murderous plot conceived by the old king, but she’d sworn blind in the days following his death, that she’d had no choice in the matter. She’d taken refuge in the harem ever since, worming her way into the other women's affections. She'd tried, with limited success, to befriend both Jared’s mother and his wife.

“What have you done?” Jared threw his words at her like arrows.

Jessica smiled. It was as big a lie as her platitudes. “Nothing, Sire. But I do think you should accompany me. We have an important matter to discuss.”

The dagger she produced from the pocket of her skirt was small but lethal. Still, she had to know that Jared could easily disarm her. In fact, he could snap her damned neck without breaking a sweat.

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” Jared knew she would have an answer. He knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Of course you don’t have to.” She fluttered her dark eyelashes as though flirting. As though Jared would lower himself to flirting with her. “I’m sure Jensen will understand. I’ll give him your apologies, shall I?”

Jared swore his blood turned to ice at that moment, freezing in his veins.

“You know,” Jessica said, brave enough now to step forwards, run the tip of her blade down Jared’s chest. “I thought perhaps, I could convince the little whore to turn on you. To kill you while you slept. You threatened to castrate him, after all. Humiliated him in front of the whole court. But he is surprisingly loyal. And stubborn. And boy, does he look pretty when he's bloody.”

Jared grabbed her wrist, and twisted her arm, knocking the dagger to the floor. “I’ll kill you. If you’ve hurt him, I’ll kill you myself.”

With the grip Jared had of her wrist, she must have been in pain, but her voice gave nothing away. Neither did her eyes. “You could kill me right now; there is nothing stopping you. Of course, you’ll never see the boy again.”

“Where is he?” Jared snarled.

“Why, Sire, I’ll take you right to him,” Jessica grinned, her lips thinning and wrinkles creasing her eyes, ugly lines born from cruelty not laughter. “First, drop your sword.”

Jared squeezed her wrist, hard. Could not stop himself. Then, knowing he was out-maneuvered, he let go and stepped back. Reluctantly, he drew his sword and dropped it to the floor. Jessica kicked it into the shadows, then, eyes trained on Jared, she bent down and retrieved her dagger. “Wise decision once again, King Jared. Shall we go?”

Jared couldn’t think of any other option but to follow her. The castle was so vast, with so many secret passage ways and hidden rooms that it was far too great a risk to do anything other than follow Jessica’s orders. Jared didn’t stop to think if the risk would have been too great had it been anyone but Jensen whose life was in peril.

As Jared suspected, Jessica lead him on a winding path, ducking in and out of doorways if she heard anyone approaching. She was quick and light on her feet and even with his longer legs Jared worried he might lose her. It was clear that if Jessica wanted to lose Jared, she could easily slip away. She led him through a passage way he’d never noticed before and then down a staircase he never knew existed, and Jared knew at that point he’d never have found Jensen without her. He also wondered how she planned on stopping him from killing her as soon as they reached him.

That question was answered in a way that Jared feared.

The doorway was barely visible. Jared would have stumbled past it if Jessica hadn’t stopped so suddenly, disappearing in front of him. The room it opened into was bare and bleak, lit by a handful of pillar candles that cast more shadow than light.

In the center of the room was Jensen; arms bound behind him, rope looped around his chest securing him to a chair, his clothes were ripped and his mouth a bloody mess. Even in the low flickering light, Jared saw anger flashing in his eyes; his expression reminding Jared of an irritated cat. At Jensen’s side, a woman was playing idly with a small knife. At sight of Jared, she stepped behind the chair and held it against Jensen’s throat. Jensen did nothing but yawn, feigning boredom.

“Lady Bledel, I’d say what a pleasure it is to see you, but considering the circumstances we both know I’d be lying.” Jared should have guessed if anyone were to be won over by Jessica, it would be Alexis. She had a mean streak a mile wide and a love of money and sparkly things, and while she wasn’t dumb, she was easily influenced. She had been vying for the position of queen at one point, but Jared refused to consider it. “This is treason you realize?”

“It’s only treason if you are still king,” Lady Bledel sniped back. “Jessica—“

“Jessica is a raving lunatic, and you are a moron for listening to her,” Jensen drawled, as if oblivious to the blade at his throat. While Jared applauded his bravery, he wished Jensen would keep quiet while his life was in danger.

“Jensen my boy, you should know by now not to antagonize the good lady. Your whore isn’t a quick learner, is he, Jared?”

One more person stepped forward from the darkened corner of the room. Jared glared at the beady-eyed man. “Lord Ventimiglia, I thought you were dead. I had _hoped_ you were dead. I should have known a cockroach like you would find a way to survive. I see you’ve found a suitable hole to live in and some equally lowlife friends.”

Milo Ventimiglia. Weatherly’s advisor and chancellor. The man responsible for raising taxes so high that common people couldn't afford to eat. Thanks to him, the prisons had been full of honest men who just wanted to see their families fed and housed.

In the last days of battle, before Weatherly had finally fallen, it had been hard to keep track of all the loyal members of his unholy court. Many had been killed by their own servants, retribution for a thousand cruelties, but some managed to disappear. Jared should have known Ventimiglia would have had an escape plan.

“I’m not a whore,” Jensen spat out, not one to let an insult go unnoted. The knife against his throat twitched.

“He is feisty, isn’t he?” Ventimiglia said, walking around the room to face Jensen, stopping in front of the rickety chair and kicking his leg up so his boot was pressed against Jensen’s crotch. “You know,” he said, turning his head to smile slyly at Jared. “I was disappointed to hear that you left the pretty slut’s balls attached. He would have made a beautiful eunuch. A fine addition to your harem. King Michael, now, he would have nutted the bitch himself and then fucked him bloody. He was a man who knew how to yield power.”

“From what I heard,” Jensen hissed venomously at Ventimiglia. “He was a limp-dicked psychopath with mommy issues and an unfortunate taste in friends.”

Ventimiglia let his foot fall to the ground and bent down, his gloved hand snapping out to grasp Jensen’s throat. That at least caused Alexis to back off with the knife. “Watch your mouth, whore, or I’ll slice off your tongue before I rip out your heart.”

Jared’s hand twitched at thin air, desperate for his sword.

“You know, Jared, we had a plan. A good one.” Ventimiglia grinned back at Jared over his shoulder. “We were sure we could persuade your bitch here to do our dirty work for us. It would have been so much neater. He kills you, Morgan kills him, Alexis cuts your mother’s throat, Jessica butchers the queen and your unborn child, and the short reign of Padalecki comes to an ugly end.”

Jared barely paid heed to Ventimiglia’s little fantasy, too busy watching Jensen’s eyes water and a ruddy flush work its way up his neck as the lunatic pressed his fingers into Jensen’s airway. Jensen’s feet were starting to twitch against the floor by the time Ventimiglia eventually released his hold, white imprints from his fingers left behind that would quickly turn to purple bruises. Jared’s temper was hard to control.

Jensen’s chin dropped to his chest and he heaved in a desperate breath, then another. A hacking cough shook his body and Jared worried that he was about to suffer another bout of the asthma, but then Jensen’s head snapped back and with great aim he spat wetly in Ventimiglia’s face. The man let out a shocked grunt, then slapped Jensen hard across the cheek. Jensen’s head snapped to the side with the force of it, but he straightened up quickly and though his eyes were wet with tears, he grinned at Ventimiglia with bloodied teeth.

“You’ll regret that,” Ventimiglia vowed, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “I was going to kill you quickly, but now you’ll suffer as much as your so-called king.”

Jared watched warily as Ventimiglia drew his sword. The man was not known as a skilled fighter, but it didn’t take much skill to murder a bound man.

Jared’s options were limited. Even without his sword, he could take down three people easily. He’d survived far worse odds, even with Jessica at his back, but it wasn’t only his life that was at stake here. He needed to act quickly because however this played out, the longer these three had to think, the harder an escape would be.

It wasn’t Jared, however, who made the first move. Jensen surprised everyone, lunging forward on the chair, head down like a battering ram, knocking Ventimiglia to the floor before following him down. After a split-second of shock, Jared reacted instinctually, shoving Jessica away from him before darting forward and disarming Alexis, knocking her out rather than killing her more out of chance than planning, then whipping back around and sinking Alexis’s knife into Lord Ventimiglia’s throat before the villain had a chance to gain his footing and wield his sword against Jensen.

From the doorway, Jessica screamed, her eyes wild. But rather than flying at Jared, she snarled, “You’ll regret that. I’m going to kill your bitch of wife and gut your mother.” Jared stared at the empty space as she disappeared out of the door, his heart sinking. If she was making her way to the harem, god knows what she would do.

“Go after her.”

Jared’s attention jumped back to Jensen still bound and bloody on the floor, his desperate efforts to free himself proving fruitless. Cursing loudly, Jared dropped to his knees and immediately began loosening the ropes looped around him. Thankfully, even with Jensen wriggling impatiently it didn’t take long to free him from the bindings holding him to the chair. Jensen climbed to his feet with only the slightest support from Jared who immediately began working on the rope tied tight around his wrists.

“Leave me, I’ll slow you down, go after her!” Jensen tried to shrug him off which only slowed Jared’s efforts to untie the knotted rope.

“Hold still,” Jared snapped, throwing the rope to the floor when he finally picked the last knot free. The skin on Jensen’s wrists was scratched and torn from his struggles, dried blood smeared across his arms. The sight made Jared’s rage return in full. “I don’t know whether you’re brave or stupid. Why do you feel the need to antagonize people until they want to kill you? Are you cursed?”

“It’s a gift,” Jensen snapped back, turning to glare at Jared. “Now go after her.”

Adrenaline coursing through Jared’s body, he grabbed Jensen by the shoulders.

 

*#*#*

 

Jensen was fraught. The king had freed him, for which he was grateful, but that crazy bitch Jessica was going after the women in the harem, and the king needed to stop fussing over Jensen and go after her before she killed someone. He didn’t understand why the king wasn’t chasing her down already.

And then the king grabbed Jensen’s shoulders and before Jensen could say a word in complaint, he kissed him. His mouth slammed against Jensen’s, not gentle or hesitant, but with a passion that stole Jensen’s breath away, so much so that he was light-headed by the time the king drew back and stared down at him, his hazel eyes dark.

“You...you need to catch her,” Jensen stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the king’s face, from his lips, red and bloodied, where they’d pressed against Jensen’s mouth.

“I know,” the king said. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“You can run faster than me.” Jensen shook his head, trying to focus on the danger they were in rather than the way the king’s mouth had felt pressed against his own. “Go! Go now!”

Finally, the king let go of Jensen’s shoulders, but only so he could grab his hand. “You are fast enough,” he insisted, tugging Jensen along with him towards the door. “I will not risk losing you again."

“But—“ Jensen tried to resist. He knew he could only run so far before his chest would tighten.

The king refused to even hear his argument, just increased his grip on Jensen’s hand and set off at a steady jog. “Shut up for once and do what I say.”

Jensen had little option but to hold onto the king’s hand and try to keep up. Adrenaline kept him going, though his muscles were stiff from being bound, and panic surged through his veins as they ran.

He didn’t have time to dwell on the kiss, on the way the king’s hands felt when they were holding him close. But if he survived the night, he knew he would remember it forever.

Jensen’s feet were dragging by the time they reached the door of the harem rooms. The guard outside, Felicia jumped to attention when she saw them racing towards her.

“Have you seen Alba? Jessica?” King Jared shouted, not stopping before he reached her, not even slowing down.

“Jessica?” Felicia repeated. “Yes...yes...she arrived a few minutes ago. Sire?”

The king brushed past her, barging into the rooms and dragging Jensen along with him. Felicia followed behind them both.

Jessica was there, in the center of the room, knife clasped in her hand. A group of women were gathered at the side of the room, Lady Samantha at the front of them, her face stony. Danneel was the only one who stood between her and Jessica.

“Oh look, your king is here to save you,” Alba sneered, tossing a quick look over her shoulder at King Jared and Jensen.

Danneel glanced at the sword in her own hand and then looked back to Jessica with contempt. “If you think I need anyone to save me, you are even more deranged than I thought.”

Jared laughed. Jensen wheezed. The door opened behind them.

“You know there’s no guard on the door again, have Felicia and Kirsten—” Genevieve came to a standstill at Jensen’s side. Jensen was wondering why the hell she was out wandering the castle at this time of night until he noticed the plate of pastries she was holding. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t you judge me,” Genevieve said. “I’m a pregnant woman.”

"You,” Jensen wheezed. “You already ate all King Jared’s food. After you’d eaten your evening meal.”

“Pregnant,” Genevieve reiterated.

“Excuse me,” Jessica snarled. “Are you completely stupid?”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “I’m not the one about to get my ass kicked by a mad-as-hell redhead, so I’d say no.”

“Lay down your weapon, Jessica,” King Jared, commanded. “You cannot win.”

“No?” Jessica stepped around so she was facing more towards them rather than Lady Samantha and the other women. “Possibly not, but I bet I can still kill one of you. Who should it be? You, King Jared? Or your wife? Or perhaps your whore? Which would cause you more pain?”

“Well,” Jensen said, his breathing still not much better despite the lack of running. He suspected his lungs were suffering another attack of the asthma. He slowly edged away from the queen as he spoke, trying to draw Jessica’s attention. If he was as good as the king said at goading people into killing him, now was definitely the time to prove it. “It’s pretty painful listening to you monologue, so if you could decide quickly I would appreciate it. Lord above, I thought we’d done with the villainous rambling when Ventimiglia bled out. It took quite some time. Did you stay until the end? Until his bowels emptied and his body finally stopped twitching?”

Jessica let out an anguished howl and lunged towards Jensen, her sword outstretched. It was what Jensen had hoped would happen, except he hadn’t planned quite as far as what to do when it did. Other than placing his faith in others to save him again.

His faith was not misplaced.

Felicia, King Jared, and Danneel all reacted as one, darting towards Jessica with their weapons raised. But it was Danneel’s sword that took blood, ending Jessica quickly with deadly accuracy. Danneel barely blinked as she glared down at the woman lying in a growing pool of her own treacherous blood. There would be no sorrow or tears for a traitor amongst the harem.

“Do we need to call for Doctor Beaver?” Jared asked.

Jensen looked at the twitching body on the floor, very obviously dead, and then to Genevieve who seemed quite happy now she was in Danneel’s arms, her plate of pastries still steady in her hand. There seemed no urgent need for a doctor.

"No,” he said, giving the king a bewildered look.

“For you, not them,” King Jared said slowly.

Jensen scowled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re covered in blood and can hardly breathe.”

“I’m fine,” Jensen repeated. And took a deep breath to prove it, which was not an intelligent move, as the following coughing fit proved. He found himself sitting on the floor without quite knowing how he got there.

The king shook his head at Jensen and sat down beside him. “You really are determined to worry me to death. Mother, can you send someone to fetch Doc Beaver please. And perhaps Jeff as well. I fear there’s rather a mess to clean up.”

The king wrapped his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and tugged him close. Considering the night he’d had, Jensen was quite happy to let himself be held.

“After your actions tonight, I think you’ve proved you are fully capable of joining the guards. I’ll be happy to tell Omundson to accept you...if that’s what you still wish.”

“Is that...” Jensen tried to breathe slowly the way Beaver had advised him to, but it was difficult with how wildly his heart was beating. “Is that what you wish for me?”

The king snorted a laugh, that did not sound amused. “I wish for you never to leave my sight again. I wish for you to be mine. I wish to teach you everything you want to know. But if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that your will is not mine to rule. You deserve to choose for yourself what it is you want.”

“Then, Sire,” Jensen said, laying his head against the king’s shoulder as spots flashed before his eyes. “I...I choose you.”

“Then you shall have me.”

Jensen was sure he heard a coo-ing sound from the ladies of the harem surrounding them, but he ignored them in favor of closing his eyes and saving his breath for things far more exciting.

 

 

 

 

Jared was nervous. And not in the pre-dawn battle way he was accustomed to. He had butterflies in his stomach that he hadn’t felt since he was a boy. Even telling himself that he was the damn king, the most powerful man in the land, was doing nothing to ease his anxiety.

“So, we’re going to seek talks with the Sicts then, yes? I know the borders have always been peaceful, but it wouldn’t hurt to solidify our allegiances. We can discuss trade too. That’s always...Sire? King Jared...are you listening to a word I’m saying? Jared?”

The last _Jared_ , which was said with some vigor finally jostled Jared from his thoughts.

Jeff was staring at him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Jared scowled back. “I was listening.”

“Sure you were,” Jeff nodded. “You weren’t lost in thoughts of green eyes and freckles at all.”

“I was not,” Jared tried to argue, but Jeff just grinned knowingly back at him. “Oh, shut up.”

“It’s adorable,” Jeff laughed. “To see you sweet on someone. I haven’t seen you like this in years. Actually, not since you were fifteen years old and thought you were madly in love with the baker’s boy; what was his name again...Jake? Jackson?”

“Justin,” Jared admitted, grudgingly, to more laughter from Jeff. “And I am not suffering from a case of puppy love.”

“Just plain old love then?” Jeff winked. “It’s understandable; the kid is beautiful. And brave too, by all accounts.”

Jared couldn’t even force himself to disagree, not even to save face. He did try not to gush too badly. “He was braver than many a soldier I’ve seen on the battlefield. That young man pushed himself into danger’s path. Was willing to sacrifice himself for me. For the queen. His heroism...it deserves reward, Jeff.”

“I presume that’s what has you so distracted now? The thought of giving him his _reward_?” Jared didn’t think it was possible for Jeff to smirk any harder. He was wrong. “I shall let you go then, Sire. Your attention is clearly focused on far more important matters than our national security. And God knows, I wouldn’t want to tire you out.”

Jared would have liked to argue with Jeff, dispute his insinuations, complain about his rudeness, but in honesty, all he wanted to do was escape to his chambers as quickly as possible.

If everything had gone according to plan, Doc Beaver would have finally released Jensen from his care earlier in the day, and the boy should now be waiting for Jared in his rooms. The thought was a very pleasant one. If anxiety inducing. Jared did not want to fuck this up. Jensen deserved more. Jensen deserved the world. But all he wanted apparently was Jared.

 

Jensen was, as Jared had hoped, waiting for him in his rooms. And he was surely the most adorable creature that Jared had ever set eyes on. God, he hadn’t considered anyone, man, woman or beast, adorable ever before.

Jensen was asleep, but not in the bed. The poor boy would never dare to curl up on the king’s bed, although Jared would not have minded in the slightest; that picture would have been a delight to discover. In fact, it was one that Jared hoped he would soon see. But no, Jensen had dragged two furs from the bed, laid them on the floor, and curled up on top of them in front of the fire. Harley and Sadie, those supposedly fearsome hounds, huddled like sleeping puppies beside him.

It was a picture of utter contentment that Jared was reluctant to disturb. In fact, if Harley hadn’t sensed his presence and let out a welcoming whuff, he would have happily sat and watched the three of them snuggling by the fire for the rest of the evening.

Jensen, however, stirred with Harley’s bark, stretched out his arms and let out a sleepy groan. Jared was gratified to note that Jensen’s limbs were no longer that of an underfed boy. His wrists, though bruised, were not as close to snapping as Jared had feared the first time he’d seen them. Jensen was still lean, but he was lithe and supple rather than weak. And his face had lost the shadow of pain that had seemed to haunt it. Even though it still bore fading evidence of his recent ordeal.

“You enjoy looking at me?” Jared’s attention snapped to the sparkling eyes and cheeky grin aimed in his direction.

Jared smiled. “I think you know I do, Jensen. You are feeling better now?”

Jensen stretched one more time; the silk blouson he was wearing riding up his belly and showing a sliver of pale skin that sent an urgent burst of desire to Jared’s gut. He was so far gone for this boy, it was surely madness.

“Yes,” Jensen said, twisting onto his side before sitting up, his fingers scritching at Sadie’s fur as the old dog grumbled at being disturbed. “Doctor Beaver said I was perfectly healthy.”

That didn’t sound like the grizzled old doc’s words to Jared at all. He’d never proclaimed Jared ‘perfectly healthy’ even when he was in the rudest of health. “He did?”

“Well,” Jensen admitted, climbing to his feet and stretching one more time, giving Jared another glimpse of tummy that Jared was beginning to think was no longer accidental. “He blustered for a while, but he let me go. Eventually. Said I should rest often for a few days. And that I should...should not allow you to tire me out.”

The last was said with a delighfully bashful smile.

“Well, you certainly seem rested now,” Jared noted, looking at the pile of furs beside the fire with a raised eyebrow.

“I apologize, Sire. I wasn’t sure how long you would be. I thought...I was told you wanted me to wait for you here, in your rooms, but I should not have fallen asleep.” For the first time since his stirring, Jensen seemed unsure. Of himself. Or maybe of Jared. That had not been Jared’s intention. With Jensen shuffling nervously beside him, Harley yawned and stood up, shook his massive frame and sat down firmly at the boy’s feet, staring at Jared in a way that seemed to dare him to say something unkind. It appeared that his dogs’ allegiances had already switched. He couldn’t say he blamed them.

Jared discarded his jacket and the light crown Jeff insisted he wear during daily business, and shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes before he brushed it aside. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Jensen before the young man drowned his newfound bravery in doubt. “You have no need to apologize, Jensen. None at all. I want you here. Right here.”

Tucking his fingers underneath Jensen’s chin, he tipped the boy’s head up. “Believe me, if I returned to this sight every day, it would make me the happiest man in the land.”

Jensen swallowed hard, his eyes flickering across Jared’s chest and up his throat, climbing slowly higher until they finally met Jared’s gaze. “I...I...” Jensen’s nerves were evident in the tremor of his voice. “I would like that, Sire. To be here. For you.”

Hearing that shy admission, Jared could wait no longer. Dipping his head low, he took the boy’s mouth in a kiss that quickly grew from gentle to heated, especially when Jensen’s hands found their way around Jared’s waist, grasping at his shirt as though trying to find the warm skin hidden below.

It took all of Jared’s willpower to tear himself away from the addictive lure of Jensen’s sugar-sweet lips, but he had to ensure, one more time, that this was what the boy truly wanted.

“Jensen,” Jared gasped, his own chest tight with desire, and with a wave of...of...love, that he’d never felt so keenly before. “Is this really what you want? Is this of your own choice?”

“Yes,” Jensen said, without the slightest hint of indecision or hesitation, his eyes almost glowing under the flickering light of the fire. “Yes, please.”

Jared held himself back one more time. “You have to be sure, Jensen. I want you. I want to make you scream my name in pleasure. I want to taste every part of your beautiful body. Want to do things to you that no one else has.” Jared’s voice grew rougher with every thought of what he wanted to do to the young man shaking in his arms. “But once I’ve had you, Jensen, once I’ve claimed your innocence, you’ll be mine and only mine. I could not bear for you to lie with anyone else.”

Jared knew this was not fair. But he also knew it was true. The thought of Jensen with anyone else made his blood boil with rage. If Jensen said no now, Jared may be able to live with it. But if he bedded the boy, witnessed him in the throes of delight and ecstasy, writhing beneath him, he knew there would be no letting him go. Not without bloodshed.

“I’m yours,” Jensen replied simply. “I want no one else.”

“You’re sure?”

Jensen huffed and rolled his eyes, and Jared tried not to be amused. “I’m quite sure, Sire. I swear. I want you...I want you to...to _fuck_ me.”

The coarse language from Jensen’s mouth was strange to Jared’s ear, but although the boy’s face flushed bright, his eyes never wavered from Jared’s. And that confidence was all Jared needed to spur him into action.

“I want you naked,” he said, voice barely more than a growl. “Naked and in my bed.”

Jensen whimpered, and Jared couldn’t resist swallowing the sound with his mouth, kissing him again until they were both dizzy. Then, with a slap to Jensen’s ass to encourage him to move, and to drag yet another surprised sound of pleasure from his lips, Jared finally broke away.

 

Truth be told, Jared would have liked to peel the clothes from Jensen himself, but he had the dogs to deal with, lest the pair of fiends interrupt them. He also doubted Jensen would want any kind of audience while he disrobed.

Once Harley and Sadie were safely tucked away in an outer chamber, Jared returned to his bed, stripping his clothes as he went, cursing at the time it took to undo all the lacing and fastenings, and almost crashing into the door as he finally shucked his last stocking. By the time he made it back to his bedroom, he was stripped bare and his excitement was obvious. He was glad Jensen had seen him aroused before, if not entirely naked. At least the boy wouldn’t be shocked by the size of Jared’s manhood. Lord knows, more than one bedmate had lost their nerve and retreated at first sight of Jared’s erect cock.

The vision of Jensen stretched out in his bed was more stunning than Jared could ever have imagined. His pale skin shone ethereal against the dark silk sheets. Nerves, or perhaps anticipation, had him chewing painfully on his bottom lip. Jared’s breath left him in a rush as he stared down, unable to hide how hard he was, how great his desire.

Jensen shivered, with his whole body from his shoulders down to his toes, as he gazed up at Jared.

“Are you sure?” Jared asked, one final time, testing his own restraint to the very limit. As much as Jared desired the boy he would never forgive himself if the boy didn’t truly desire him back.

Mouth opening and closing wordlessly, Jensen could only nod, but his thighs relaxing, legs spreading across the bed and dick hardening and twitching against his belly answered loud and clear.

Jared climbed onto the bed, unable to drag his eyes away from the young man. For all the men and women he had fucked in his time, he’d never once felt like this. Never felt his belly swoop with anxiousness, desire so deep in his blood that he thought he might drown in it. He didn’t just want to screw this boy, he wanted to mark him and claim him and hold him close forever.

"Sire,” Jensen asked, his fingers flexing anxiously at the sheets. “Is...something wrong? Am I not...is my body not to your pleasing?”

Jared hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring down at Jensen, caught in an emotional tumult he’d never before experienced. Guilt tore at him as fear pooled in Jensen's eyes.

“No,” Jared said quickly. “You are perfect, Jensen, perfect.”

Then, to save Jensen from suffering another second’s doubt, he replaced words with action.

 

*#*#*

 

 

The worry and fear gnawing at Jensen’s nerves disappeared the moment that King Jared’s mouth met his. Jensen didn’t know if all kisses felt like this or if the king possessed some kind of magic that reduced Jensen to a trembling mess with just his lips. Senses that Jensen never knew he possessed seemed to flare to life when King Jared’s tongue licked across the seam of his lips, encouraging his mouth to open.

“You,” King Jared said, between kisses, “are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

Jensen did not believe him, he was just a scrawny boy, especially compared to the firm muscled beauty of the king. “I am nothing compared to you, Sire,” he managed to say, unable to stop himself from touching the king’s glorious golden skin; tracing a finger over the pale battle scars slashed across his arm, his chest.

King Jared stopped kissing and stared down at Jensen. “You are everything, Jensen. Everything I have ever desired.”

Jensen blushed and tilted his head to look away. The king kissed him in response, just behind his ear, dragging a surprised moan of approval from Jensen’s lips.

“Your beauty captivated me from the second I set eyes on you,” the king murmured in his ear, his drawling tones affecting Jensen almost as much as the gentle graze of his teeth against Jensen’s earlobe. “But your determination and bravery and ridiculously smart mouth made me fall in love with you.”

The air in Jensen’s lungs disappeared. His eyes snapped back to the King’s face searching for the lie. He couldn’t find it. Jensen didn’t know what to say. The king couldn’t love Jensen. It was impossible. Jensen was young and inexperienced and had nothing to his name. Jensen was no one.

King Jared didn’t let him voice any of those doubts. He kissed away any arguments gathering on Jensen’s tongue with a fierce passion that made him forget his doubts and think only about pleasure.

“Please,” Jensen heard himself beg, the word swallowed by King Jared’s mouth. “Please, Sire.” He didn’t know what he was pleading for but he needed...something. Anything. More.

The king hushed him. “Shhh, sweet Jensen. You don’t have to call me Sire. I’m not the king now. I’m just a man.” Jared’s bear-paw hands wrapped around Jensen’s wrists, tugging them until he was holding them above Jensen’s head, pressing them down gently against the mattress. “And I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.”

Jensen closed his eyes, his head tipping backwards, burrowing into the plump pillows as Jared sucked kisses into the hollow of his throat. Shivers rippled down his spine, heat spreading through his body like a fever taking hold. A little part of his fogged brain worried he would not survive the night. He already felt good, too good. His dick was stiff and dripping against his belly, and Jared hadn’t even touched it yet.

Jared took one hand away and trailed it down Jensen’s body, fingers skimming lightly down the ridge of his collar bone, across his chest, thumbing at his nipples to Jensen’s surprise, and his delight. Jared’s mouth followed, peppering wet kisses across Jensen’s skin.

Jensen could only lay there and try to breathe. He was so overwhelmed he didn’t even notice Jared had moved both his hands until his fingers were splayed across Jensen’s hip bones, holding him still as Jared licked lazy patterns down Jensen’s belly. Jensen’s hands still didn’t move; his arms stayed frozen above his head as though shackled there. Jared’s tongue flicked inside Jensen’s belly button, his fingers clenching bruises deep into Jensen’s hips when Jensen squirmed.

Blinking open his eyes, Jensen looked down at Jared; the messy waves of his hair, the graceful curve of his shoulders, the thick muscles moving below his skin. Fat beads of sweat dripped down Jensen’s face from his hairline. A wave of heat surged through his body. His toes curled into the sheets.

Jared inched down his belly, tongue drawing wet lines closer towards Jensen’s dick. His fingers squeezed tighter still into Jensen’s flesh. Hearing Jensen groan, breathy and desperate, Jared glanced up, hazel eyes, finding Jensen’s immediately.

Jensen tensed, his muscles seizing and heart stalling. Pleasure wracked his body in a way he’d never before experienced. He came with a shocked gasp, his cock spending itself with a ferocity that left Jensen shaking in the aftermath. And embarrassed beyond measure, once his wits and breath finally returned.

“Oh God.” He flung his arm across his eyes. Although Jensen was a virgin, his recent research was thorough enough to know that coming so quickly, without a touch, was not something to be proud of. Humiliation flushed his cheeks almost harder than arousal had.

“Oh god,” Jared echoed. But his voice wasn’t filled with embarrassment or even anger. It was more like...awe. “So damned hot, Jensen.”

“What?” Jensen peeked out from behind his arm.

“So. Damned. Hot.” Jared repeated, punctuating each word with a kiss to Jensen’s come splattered belly. He crawled back up the bed, his arms framing Jensen’s face before he kissed him again, his lips salty and bitter against Jensen’s. “I've never seen anyone so responsive. God, Jensen, you are amazing. I want to keep going, make you come again, is that okay?” he asked, peppering open mouthed kisses across Jensen’s neck.

“You do?” Jensen gasped as Jared sucked at the soft skin behind his ear. “I mean yes...yes...please. Will you...will you still fuck me. Please, Sire?”

“God,” Jared growled against his collar bone. “Say that again.”

“Will you fuck me, please?” Jensen said, a little louder, a little less fearful. “I want...want you to take me. Take my virginity. I’ve thought about it. Touched myself, my...my hole...at night when I was alone. Imagined what it would feel like...to have you inside me.”

Jared groaned, as though he’d been punched. “So much innocence and yet a mouth that was designed for sin. And Lord, the things I’ve imagined doing to that wicked mouth of yours, Jensen Ackles.”

It was Jensen’s turn to groan this time. Because yes, he knew what the king, what Jared, was talking about. Danneel’s book had a tale that enthusiastically described the activity. Plus of course he’d heard it a dozen or more times since he’d arrived at the castle; a mouth made for sucking cock. Jensen would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. To kneel between the king’s thighs, to feel the weight of his dick on his tongue. Feel the thickness of it stretching his lips.

“Please,” Jensen said, the word barely more than a whispered prayer. “I want that too. Want everything. To take you in my mouth. To taste you. Can I? Please?”

“Fuck,” Jared exclaimed, rolling onto his back and, to Jensen’s surprise, squeezing hard at the base of his dick.

“Are you okay?” Jensen leaned on his side, watching the rapid rise and fall of King Jared’s chest. His teeth chewed nervously on his bottom lip. “Did I say something wrong? Do you not want...I’m sorry, I—“

“No,” Jared said, exhaling loudly. “God, no. Holy fuck. Just give me a second.”

Jensen waited and watched, took the chance to stare his fill at Jared’s body, his sweat-slick skin, and the aroused flush on his face. The blood-dark head of his dick and the tightness of his balls. He didn’t know how long Jared wanted him to wait, but suddenly it was too long. A minute or ten, Jensen didn’t have the patience. Not for a second more. For once in his short life, he took the initiative, climbed onto his hands and knees, clambered over Jared, and nudged his way between the king’s legs.

“Jensen.” Jared gasped, eyes flashing wide in surprise. But he made no move to stop him, so Jensen didn’t hesitate, just laid a nervous hand on the crease of Jared’s thigh, so close to his dick they both sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t have to—” Jared said, his last words stolen by Jensen’s mouth as he lay a tentative kiss to the thick head of Jared’s dick.

It was strange, the texture, the taste. But not entirely unpleasant. Jensen thought it was something he could become used to. Even grow to love, if it caused the king’s dark-eyed reaction every time. He grew bolder, moved quicker. Kisses to the tip, turning into broad licks around the head, as his hands gripped firm around the girth of Jared’s dick. Jensen had no idea what he was doing. But the king didn’t seem to mind, running his fingers through Jensen’s hair and letting slip soft moans when Jensen tried something new. Wincing once, when Jensen’s teeth scraped at the underside of his dick.

Jensen licked down the length of Jared’s erection, until he was mouthing at the man’s balls. He pressed kisses to their delicate skin and nuzzled at the fullness. “God, yes,” Jared moaned, as Jensen tried sucking one into his mouth, it was so big that Jensen’s mouth bulged, and he almost gagged with the weight of it on his tongue. It only took a minute until he gained control of himself, finding quickly that he enjoyed the sensation more than he could explain. Jared seemed to understand though, cupping his palm against the back of Jensen’s head and holding him close. Jensen moaned, his own dick once again dripping wet against his thigh. Jensen lapped and sucked at the king’s balls until they were sloppy and Jensen’s cheeks ached, then he kitten-licked his way back up Jared’s dick.

“Put it in your mouth, Jensen,” the king instructed, breathily, his eyes heavy-lidded. Jensen looked up at him through his damp eyelashes, licked his spit-slick lips and did as he was bid. Jensen didn’t know when he’d stopped feeling scared. When the fear had been replaced by hot sparks of excitement. With the overwhelming desire to touch, to taste, to grab everything offered to him and demand more.

“That’s it,” the king sighed. “Not too much. Not too quick. Take your time. Watch your teeth, that’s a good boy.”

Jensen sucked Jared’s dick into his mouth, warmth spreading through him at the king’s praise. Even when Jared grunted, and bucked his hips up, sliding his dick over Jensen’s tongue, and hitting the back of his throat making Jensen choke, he didn’t stop. He backed off. Coughed. Wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, saliva smearing in a mess across his lips, then tried again. And although he was disappointed that he couldn’t manage to take more than half the king’s dick in his mouth, he simply wrapped his fingers around the rest, and sucked and swallowed as best as he could.

This, he thought, was everything he ever wanted. Hearing the king's moans. Seeing the pleasure ratcheting higher through every line in his body. Being, just for a moment, the center of his world.

 

*#*#*

 

Jared couldn’t stand it. Knew he had to stop. Had to stop Jensen before he came like a shot down the young man’s throat. But God forgive him, he just couldn’t find the willpower to move. Jensen’s mouth, his sweet innocent mouth was going to end him. This was not what he’d planned. He’d wanted to lavish time and attention on Jensen, bring him to the brink of ecstasy and watch him tumble over it, time and time again. He never thought for one moment Jensen would want to suck his dick, nor be brave enough to try, not tonight. And goddamn, but if he allowed Jensen to continue for thirty seconds longer, Jared was going to come before he’d even had a chance to fuck the boy.

It took almost more self-restraint than Jared possessed to push Jensen away. And the crestfallen look on the boy’s face, the swollen pout on his abused lips very nearly killed him.

“Jensen,” he moaned, tugging the young man up so he was sprawled atop Jared, his skin sweat-slick, and hot to touch. “You are incredible. I fear you may actually be the death of me.”

“I’m sorry?” Jensen’s nose scrunched up in confusion. It made him look even younger than his eighteen years.

“You have nothing for which to be sorry,” Jared laid a kiss to the tip of his nose, and then, suddenly enough to elicit a surprised squeak from Jensen, rolled them over. “But I promised to fuck you, my sweet boy, and I never break a promise.

Jensen’s eyes fluttered shut as Jared pressed his lips against his irresistible mouth one more time before laying a trail of kisses down his body. Jensen squirmed and gasped under Jared’s determined attentions, his nipples pebbling hard and legs unconsciously spreading wider as Jared quickly moved lower, making space for himself between Jensen’s pale thighs. With tender care, he laid the softest of kisses to Jensen’s cock. He very much wanted to repay the favor and suck Jensen down, but the boy, virgin in every way, would doubtless come immediately, and as delightful as that would be, Jared needed to fuck him, didn’t think he could wait much longer.

Licking a wet path across Jensen’s tight little balls, Jared moved lower still grabbing Jensen’s ass cheeks and spreading them wide. Above him, Jensen threw his arm across his eyes and whimpered beautifully. “So pretty, Jensen, even down here,” Jared drawled, just to see the red flush across Jensen’s face intensify, crawl all the way down his bird-boned chest.

Digging his fingers into the peach-flesh of Jensen’s ass, Jared licked around the boy’s virgin hole. His thoughts wandered briefly to Jensen playing with it himself while he dreamed of Jared, maybe slipping just the tip of a saliva-slick finger past the first squeeze of muscle. The picture cause Jared’s dick to twitch dangerously against the sheets and he groaned loud across Jensen’s hole. Jensen’s dick jumped and leaked a thick blob of pre-come.

If Jared teased Jensen for much longer, the night was going to be over far too soon for both of them. He licked harder at Jensen’s hole, stabbing his tongue into the musky heat until its vice-like grip loosened enough for him to slide a single finger in along with it. Jensen cursed and bucked like a wild horse. But when Jared stopped, afraid to hurt him, he swore so colorfully that Jared almost blushed.

“Jensen,” Jared slapped his hand across the boy’s thigh to focus his attention. “Jensen, there’s a small bottle of oil beneath the pillow, can you pass me it to me please.”

“Oil?” Jensen looked down at him with dazed eyes.

Jared smirked. “Yes, Jensen, oil. I need it to open up your sweet virgin hole before I can fuck you.”

Jensen swallowed visibly, his hand shooting underneath the pillows frantically searching for the blessed bottle. Jared was impressed by his enthusiasm, and could only chuckle when the bottle narrowly missed his ear as Jensen threw it down the bed.

“Oops,” Jensen giggled, his impish smile reappearing. “Sorry.

The cheeky smile disappeared quickly when Jared slid an oil-slicked finger straight inside Jensen’s hole, finding the boy’s magic spot with practiced ease. The filthy moan that spilled from Jensen’s lips sent a flash of heat straight to Jared’s groin. Already balanced on the knife-edge of orgasm, Jared counted to ten slowly, in Latin, before using too much oil and not enough time to work Jensen’s ass open on one, two, then three fingers. Even that, Jared thought, was probably not enough, not considering the generous girth of his dick, but his balls were almost throbbing with need and Jensen was writhing atop the sheets begging for Jared to fuck him. There really was only so much restraint a man, even a king, could show. Especially when Jensen twisted himself out of Jared’s hold and rolled over onto his hands and knees, pushing his chest low to the mattress and presenting his ass in clear invitation.

For a supposedly shy virgin, Jensen was demanding. And Jared didn’t think he would ever be able to deny him a single thing. Not when he looked like Jared’s wet-dream fantasy brought to life.

Despite the boy’s grumbled complaints, and his own impatience, Jared took his time, gripping his cock firmly and pushing past Jensen’s stretched rim slowly. His hole was tight, possibly too tight, but god, if it didn’t suck Jared right in, hot and welcoming. Jared had to pause for a second to catch his breath, allowing Jensen to do the same, before he thrust in all the way. And there, cock buried to the hilt, balls pressed hot against the ample curve of Jensen’s ass, Jared found revelation. It was terrifying how much it felt like he’d just found God and Home and a reason for fighting and living, all in one sweet moment. He stayed there, muscles trembling and sweat dripping from his nose onto Jensen’s taut back, for a full minute, almost afraid to move lest the magic winding between them, binding them together as one, be broken.

“Move,” Jensen moaned, wriggling his ass enough to send an extra hammer-blow of heat slamming through Jared’s guts. “God. Just move, damnit. Fuck me like you promised.”

And again, Jared could not deny his fiery little wildcat. He was still careful as he drew out, Jensen’s hole clinging to him the whole way, unwilling to release its claim on Jared’s dick, and then, fingers circling Jensen’s slim waist he slammed back in, hard, balls slapping against Jensen’s ass. Jensen’s punched out groan was echoed by Jared. He did it again. And again. Until they were both covered in a sheen of sweat. Jensen quivering like a new-born foal in Jared’s hands.

Jared knelt back on his feet, hauling Jensen with him until, speared on his dick, the boy was sitting on Jared’s lap, his own cock, so much smaller than Jared’s but far prettier, bobbing blood red and desperate in the air.

“Fuck yourself, Jensen,” Jared said, in Jensen’s ear. “Be a good boy and fuck yourself on my cock. Let me see how much you want me.”

And God in heaven, but the boy obeyed. Levered himself up on trembling thighs and dropped back down on Jared’s dick with a drawn-out whine. Before Jared could gather his wits, he did it again, throwing his head back against Jared’s shoulder as he fucked himself down. Jared couldn’t resist latching onto the bared flesh offered to him. His teeth sinking deep enough into Jensen’s neck to mark him up, bruise him pretty, but not make him bleed. Jensen whined and fucked himself down again. Jared wouldn’t last. He could already feel the low buzz of his orgasm growing into an unstoppable force.

Hands on Jensen’s hips, Jared lifted him up and slammed him back down. “Come for me, sweet boy,” he ordered. “Come for me again.” Once more, with Jared’s help, Jensen pushed up then screwed himself back down onto Jared’s dick, his hole clamping down hard. Jared came with a bellow, his orgasm crashing into him so violently his vision almost blacked out. It took a moment to gather his senses together and remember he hadn’t so much as touched Jensen’s dick. An apology on his lips, he reached around only to find Jensen’s cock already spent.

God! The boy was a wonder.

Gentle prying a loose-limbed Jensen from his lap, Jared laid him down on the bed, curling around him protectively. Jensen was breathing hard and shaking, but Jared didn’t think he was having an attack of the asthma. Not with the smile that lit up his face.

“That...that’s was wonderful,” Jensen gasped. “Thank you.”

“So polite,” Jared buried his nose in Jensen’s hair. “No need to thank me. You were amazing, Jensen.”

“Can we...can we do it again?”

Jared laughed, awestruck. “Not right this minute. I’m not quite as young as you; I do need a little recovery time

Jensen wriggled around in his arms, his fingers reaching out to trace the upwards curve of Jared’s lips. “But you enjoyed it, Sire? I didn’t disappoint you?”

“You could never disappoint me, Jensen.” Jared kissed the tips of Jensen’s fingers, tasted the salt and bitter come on his skin. Delicious. “If I could I would keep you naked and in my bed always. The country be damned.”

“I do not think Lord Morgan would approve of that,” Jensen teased.

“Probably not,” Jared agreed. “Perhaps I’ll just have to hold court with you naked on my lap then. That would give them all fresh gossip wouldn’t it?”

Jensen grinned against Jared’s chest, his lips tickling Jared’s hair and sending a shiver down his spine. Jared was joking of course, he would never humiliate Jensen like that, but he had to admit the fantasy of Jensen sitting on his lap, or kneeling between his legs while he listened to the usual court drivel was a sinfully delicious one. His dick was twitching back to life between his thighs already just thinking about it. Jensen didn’t miss his renewed enthusiasm.

“You like that idea, Sire? Showing me off to your court? Keeping me naked. Showing everyone how good I can be for you? Perhaps you could collar me and keep me on a leash at your feet like one of your loyal pets? Always ready to serve you?”

Blood filled Jared’s dick so quickly it actually hurt. Jensen looked down between them at Jared’s dick and licked his lips, slow and deliberate. The brat.

“I believe you are teasing me, Jensen.” Jared growled in Jensen’s ear, sinfully proud to see Jensen shiver in response. “Perhaps I should punish you?”

“If your punishment involved your dick in my ass again, Sire, then I believe you should.”

Jared threw his head back and laughed. “I cannot believe you are a virgin, Jensen. You have a filthy mouth.”

“I did not think I was still a virgin,” Jensen said. “But maybe we should go again just so we can be sure.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“It seems that I am. You must have corrupted my innocent soul,” Jensen laughed. Jared pinched his nipple in retaliation. Interestingly, Jensen gasped, in pleasure rather than pain. And then, voice so soft Jared almost missed his words, he sighed. “And I am yours. Only yours?”

Warmth spread from Jared’s heart, love spreading its tendrils through his body until Jared felt light enough to float. “You are,” Jared whispered back. “And if you so desire, you always be. I love you, sweet Jensen. More than anything in this world or the next. And I will protect you from anyone, from _everyone,_ until I draw my last breath.”

"That's an offer I am willing to take." Jensen smiled, offering his lips up to Jared to seal the deal.

 

 

Finis

Thank you for reading!

 

[LINK TO PRETTY ART!!!](https://sillie82.livejournal.com/448965.html)

 

 


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